Dark Crescendo
by Skyknight
Summary: When a pair of assassins go looking for the Heavenly Kings, they instead give them a chance to summon Orochi early--leading to a clash between the Kings and various of the world's strongest warriors. SF crossover, several new characters..
1. Gatherings

DARK CRESCENDO   
Chapter One: Gatherings 

This work is copyright 1998, 1999 by Leigh Silas Hanrihan (Skyknight). All rights reserved. All characters, events, maneuvers, etc. are, where applicable, copyright of Psikyo, SNK, or Capcom. 

***Stockholm, Sweden, March 10, 1997, 3:44 p.m.*** 

"Flight 322 from Nagoya is now disembarking..." 

Hunding Thien paced back and forth in front of the airport, anxiety clear on his face, even through his ample complement of greyish-brown facial hair. This was an event he had never expected to receive, and, therefore was not prepared for. The announcement from the intercom only added to his anxiety. _I didn't think I'd see him again...and I somehow think I was hoping on that...but what I heard, about him so recently...did I underestimate him, somehow?_ Hunding's pacing quickened by an additional fifty percent, and his blue eyes gained a similar amount of discomposure. 

"Take it easy, Hunding. This is no way to greet your sister's son." 

Hunding turned towards the black-haired, red-suited Italian man next to him. "Varrius, you don't seem to understand my anxiety. My nephew has not turned out at all the way I thought he would ever since he, my sister, and my brother-in-law left for Japan. I still don't know whether or not to believe our correspondence." 

Varrius grinned, creasing his moustache and slight beard. "I seem to recall your being relieved when you found yourself rid of Anna." 

"But do you have any idea of what this could possibly mean? The repercussions? And if the words we heard were true--" 

"Oh, shush. The President will know what to do. Take it from his best friend." Varrius pointed to himself with an air of mock arrogance. 

"I'm still concerned--" 

"UNCLE HUNDING!!" 

Hunding spun towards the voice, while a bemused smile formed on Varrius's face. A young brown-haired child, just barely in his teens, ran towards Hunding, with two youths in their twenties--a white-haired, strongly built man, and a slender woman with her russet hair set in long ponytails and whispy bangs--desperately trying to catch up. Almost instantly, Hunding's expression changed from worry to delight as he allowed himself to hug the child. 

"Chris...I thought you'd be staying in Japan all your life..." 

Chris released himself and grinned. "Fat chance with the kind of competition we're getting back in Japan. Shermie and I finally convinced Yashiro to forget his vendetta with the Arashi Samurai and try an international tour." The white-haired man scowled on hearing this, which elicited giggles from both Chris and their female compatriot. "I suppose the introductions are up to me. Uncle, meet my comrades in quality music, Nanakase Yashiro and Shermie LeMieux. Yashiro, Shermie, this is my uncle, Hunding Thien." 

Shermie stepped forward and extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Thien. Chris told us plenty about you and your advances in the cause of world peace." A slight smile graced her face. "An interesting occupation for the vice-president of Kraken Technologies." 

Yashiro, in the meantime, had just noticed Varrius, and was regarding him with his usual suspicion. "Just tell me who Hunding's friend here is. The president of Kraken, I hope?" 

Varrius laughed quietly. "Very good. I am indeed Varrius Cicolini, president of that august company, the perfection to which even the keiretsu of your nation look up." Yashiro's gaze and frown narrowed further on hearing this speech. Hunding could not help but laugh out loud when he saw this reaction. 

"Come on, Yashiro, that's his normal demeanor! He loves to play the part of the high-and-mighty king of the hill-city with self-deprecation. Just let your sense of humor run free, and he'll be no trouble for you." Yashiro relaxed some, but he still seemed to be in a negative mood. Hunding turned to Chris and Shermie. "Is he always like this?" 

A collective sigh came from the two. "I'm afraid so, and it has nothing to do with nationalism," Shermie said. "Although our fledgling record line has been doing very well, the band houses have kept replacing us with the Arashi Samurai--I guess everyone likes extremely raucous music these days. Yashiro is still taking it personally." She leaned close to Hunding and Chris and whispered. "That's why we're doing this international tour. Since we're something of a unique quantity outside of Japan, no one will think to boot us off for anything else. We just hope that a new success in live music will raise Yashiro's spirits." She resumed speaking in her normal volume. "Of course, first we've got this little gift for Chris and us to follow up, right, buddy?" 

A wide grin formed on Chris's face. "I'll say! Nine days to relax, explore the fjords, write songs...now that's paradise!" 

For once, Yashiro smiled, turning towards Chris as he spoke. "It should be paradise...if only because we have no Arashi Samurai to contend with. Iori, Minoru...don't even think of coming here!" Pure ecstasy was visible in his reddish-brown eyes. 

Varrius chuckled quietly, and gestured away from the airport. "I suggest we continue this 'discussion' at the Thien complex, shall we? We might as well have someplace isolated to talk the music business." 

As the retinue filed into Varrius's car, a single figure watched from a shadowed area. As the car left for Hunding's home town, the figure raised a hand and clenched, creating a spark of electricity that would have brought plenty of attention had anyone been able to see the shadowy entity... 

"All here, at the appropriate time. It's all working to our gain. Pity the poor fools who destined this..." 

***Osaka, Japan, 11:52 p.m. (3:52 p.m. in Sweden)*** 

"Hey, where is he...?" 

"Yeah, come on..." 

"We want his autograph!" 

"I got flowers for him from...Fujimori Omatsu...self proclaimed 'biggest fan'..." 

"Uh-uh. _I'm going to marry him!_ You can't be a bigger fan than that!" 

"Like hell you're going to, Sasanomi!" 

"People, people!" Itsuki Minoru kept trying to wave the crowd to silence, pretty much to no avail. "You should realize by now that the man you're all looking for never travels with the rest of the Arashi Samurai!" 

Derisive laughter floated out of the crowd that had cornered the Arashi Samurai outside the band house. 

"I think I know why. He may be antisocial, but compared to _you_, Minoru, he's a carnival clown!" 

A scowl of fury etched itself on Minoru's face, while the three other bandmates with him giggled quietly. They shared the critic's feelings. 

"Yeah, great as the band is, it could do better without you, Minoru!" 

"I know. How did you blackmail Akisachi into letting you onto the actual stage?" 

"Hey, let's replace him with Nanakase Yashiro! You'd never know the difference...until you noticed how much better a certain backup guitar was." 

"And the band's press releases..." 

"Kiyotada, Megumiko, Akisachi...don't worry too much. You and Iori are tops. You still keep Minoru far in the background..." 

"Very far."   
  


Minoru, understandably, was steaming. _Iori, where are you? Cleaning up these knuckleheads is your fortÈ._

Yagami Iori, however, was very far from all this--specifically, already at the southeastern outskirts of Osaka, while his bandmates were still trapped near the city's heart. By his calculations, they had been stuck for forty minutes now. It did not really matter much to him. Sighing quietly, he lit a cigarette, and inhaled upon it as he looked up at the cloud-covered sky, where neither star nor moon could be seen... 

"I suppose you would always be good at avoiding your fans." 

Iori did not deign to turn towards the source of the voice, continuing to stare into the night sky. "Hello, Chizuru." 

Kagura Chizuru walked up to him. As she did so, a west wind began blowing in, blowing her thin mane of black hair forward over her shoulders. Just as Iori's form radiated apathy, so Chizuru's form radiated the responsibility associated with containing an evil by herself. "Where are the rest of the Samurai?" 

A grim half-smile. "Still trapped with the usual fan mob. It's been forty minutes so far. Probably thirty-five minutes of grilling Akisachi and Megumiko on their upcoming wedding, and five minutes trying to find out where _I_ am." Iori took another drag of his cigarette. "My own personal fans have been getting very pestiferous lately. Especially one named Toyotake Sasanomi, who thinks she's going to _marry_ me!" 

Iori snarled, and hurled the cigarette to the ground, sending a tiny burst of violet flame after it. The cigarette was completely consumed within six centimeters of the ground. "That foolish woman...what do I care about love?! There's no room in the world for happiness! All there is is pain, suffering, despair, and humiliation!" A few short wisps of flame could be seen flickering about his teeth and nails. 

"Are you really sure, Iori?" Chizuru looked a little confused. "Your own bandmates certainly seem to have a different opinion." 

Iori closed his eyes in response. "All I can do is hope that fate is not cruel towards Akisachi and Megumiko the way it is towards nearly everyone else. And certainly not towards me." Now Iori's eyes seemed to emit fire. "You could say I'm a worst case scenario. I personally want to know what I did in my past lives to deserve all this...to deserve being born a Yagami...to deserve being humiliated by my lineage-only father, to be always compared against that fool Tsuruchi...to deserve being cursed with the knowledge of the Ya Otome technique...to deserve the hereditary vendetta against the Kusanagi, so that I must fight even those I bear no ill will against, like Saisyu...to deserve being at the Orochi's mercy..._to deserve being vulnerable to the Bloodriot!_" 

Iori spun around with such rapidity and violence that Chizuru actually found herself taking a startled step back. "You say that I'm destined to rescue the world from Orochi in this day and age! Tell me, Chizuru, do I _look_ like a hero? Well, even if it disappoints you, I am _not_ Terry Bogard, _not_ Tsang Chun-Li,_ not_ Sakazaki Ryo, _not_ Kitasono Ryu, _not_ Athena Asamiya, and _most **definitely NOT**_Kusanagi Kyo!! All...I...am..." Iori rasped, "is a man broken from birth and always collapsing." He stared hatefully towards the northeast. "What can that fool Kyo know of my agonies? He has the love of both his parents, a practically destined girlfriend, many friends...And me?...Minoru scorns me, Akisachi and the others are afraid of me a little, my father detests me, and I can find no succor in the cheering of our fans." By now, Iori's countenance had degenerated into sullen self-hatred. "Face it, Chizuru. I am as nothing. I have little to lose, and less I can ever gain." 

"No, Iori..." Chizuru said, her voice halfway between normal and whisper. "You still have potential for greatness. And your will is greater than you think." Iori glowered at her. "I'm serious! You probably don't realize it, but when you and Rugal's secretaries were fighting Goenitz, he was continually trying to put you under the Bloodriot. I could feel the attempts even in my half-conscious state. Iori...the only reason he succeeded at the end was that he used the energies his death released to power a final attempt. Only Orochi itself could do better..." 

"It still doesn't matter." Iori clenched a fist and closed his eyes. "Ever since Goenitz died, I've felt _something_--for all I know, Orochi-kisama--pressing at my mind, whispering words of rage and destruction. And every time, I've come perilously close to reexperiencing the Bloodriot..." Iori's face became cast with terror and sickness. 

"And one time, while fighting one of the usual mahoutsukai determined to wipe out my family, I actually did fall under it. It was brief, but I remember the helplessness as my cursed blood made my body take the mahoutsukai, and completely destroy him. His flesh was shredded like coconut, his skeleton completely splintered...I've slain the mahoutsukai and their mercenaries before, but this...I actually felt _pleasure_ in it!" 

Chizuru clutched the collar of her jacket as Iori finished his words, his eyes still blasted with self-horror. Tears began to well in the corners of her eyes. "Iori...you're still being too hard on yourself...the original Yasakani blood is strongest in you than it ever was since Hiroto made the pact 660 years ago. If you could learn to trust yourself, you could overpower your Orochi blood consistently...you could restore your line to what Yasakani wanted..." 

"But what good am I, still? I'm completely alone, basically friendless--and no, my fans don't count." Iori turned away from Chizuru, and began to walk away, but then looked back over his shoulder. "You may be right about my being important to sealing Orochi off in this century. I'd certainly be more than happy to repay him for my cursed blood. But other than that..." 

He breathed a sorrow-tinged sigh. "I am glad for at least one thing. You, unlike everyone else, even Akisachi, actually understand me. But I am, and always will be, a desolate man. There is room for no one." 

Chizuru watched Iori walk away. When he was no longer in sight, she turned away, and forced herself to choke back a sob. 

He truly was alone, if he could not bring himself to accept a true friend... 

***Northern Sicily, Italy, 4:06 p.m.*** 

"Okay, a few basic points you ought to have remembered." 

Siobhan Conaghan walked back and forth in front of her fallen foe, brushing her auburn hair with her nunte while punctuating her remarks with her sai. She seemed aptly dressed for the battle in the copse, wearing a light green blouse, dark green pants, gloves, vest, and short cape, and dark brown boots. "One, defense is very important when facing a psychokineticist like myself when there's this much loose debris around. Two, any needlessly extending extremities, organic or artificial, are nunte bait. Three--and this is most important--never, ever try to pierce my Soul Shield with anything thrown. Do you understand my points?" During the entire lecture, a slight smile had been on the Irishwoman's face, an indicator that she was just trying to lift her foe's spirits. 

Rose nodded while smiling in turn and rolling her eyes at receiving a lesson from a woman at least fifteen years her junior. "Yes, I understand. I must admit, though, ever since you received that invitation to KOF '97, you've been drilling everyone else--me, Terry, Andy, Mai, King, Dudley--nonstop." 

"What do you want me to do, practice against total strangers who might want to cripple me out of the tournament? Remember, several of them are scared of the possibility of facing me in there. At least this time, I probably won't have to worry about any sort of emergency keeping me out." Siobhan emitted a sigh of annoyance. "I just don't believe it. Katsuda sends a message saying he's found Yousai's killers--and since three people would be too much for the mission, I need to come alone--I have Kasumi take my place on the team, and what do I receive? The worst pummeling I've ever had, courtesy of Sukune's beetle mechs! And no Onyx Samurai or Garlon! At least Katsuda apologized for the false lead...but I did miss my chance to be in the tournament." 

Confusion was clear on Rose's furrowed brow. "What I don't get is what got   
you to enter in the first place. I know you have a particular distaste for   
single-elimination tournaments." 

"The King of Fighters tournaments, at least when Geese wasn't running them and throwing illegal wagering and other such non-niceties into the mix, have always been between three-member teams. Kind of emphasizes cooperation and such. There isn't quite as much antagonism as I see in a Street Fighter tournament...no offense, Rose." 

Rose smiled graciously. "I've no reason to be offended. I only entered to   
find Bison and put an end to his corruption." Some sadness entered Rose's   
face. "Believe me, Siobhan, you don't want to face Bison's form of Ler Drit. It's totally corrupt to match his corrupted psychokinesis...and I swear he included some mahou in it as well. I only barely survived our battle. And Bison...Bison was able to walk away and leave me as dead." Shivers of dismay and fear shook Rose through. 

Siobhan chuckled gently. "Consider yourself lucky that Bison was the deadliest foe you had ever faced. After all, Mai, Andrew, and I get Yasuhiro for a primary nemesis, Terence's got Geese, and those three and Joe had to put up with some fellow named Laocorn Gaudeamus who got himself possessed by MARS, of all things! I'm still amazed Terence survived his battle with the freed Mars...and yes, the thing was ultimately defeated." 

Rose blinked several times. "Defeated an apparent war-god...if so, then...perhaps...no, that would be imposing." 

Siobhan stepped towards Rose. "What is it? What are you thinking about?" 

"For a moment, I thought Terry could help me remove Gill from his throne." 

"Oh, yes," Siobhan smiled. "The self-styled God reborn, the Lord of the Elements. Trust me, you've told me everything I need to know about him. I really doubt he'd compare to Laocorn or Mars." 

"You're sure?" 

"Very. Just remember that Laocorn and Mars were defeated by four of the world's greatest warriors. I'd say they can take Gill out without too much effort." 

"Still...it's not the time yet." Rose tightened her shawl. "As much as I dislike the thought, Gill is stabilizing the world a little with his constriction of the underworld to his organization's goals. We must wait until he's helping the world no more." 

"Bah, leave him for now. Mai and Andrew are expecting us back at the lakeshore, and King and Dudley will be arriving tonight. You might as well test their strength today." 

Rose smiled, and nodded. "I could use the distraction..." She then looked northward, a faraway look in her eyes, remembering one of her own who had done the greatest sacrifice against Gill, with the greatest potential good... 

***Outside the Thien mansion, on the coast near Hallstavik, Sweden, 5:41   
p.m.*** 

Varrius had left the others in the mansion to take a walk along the coast. It was his custom to take a brisk, 30-minute walk in the outdoors just before twilight every day, wherever he was. It was his way of clearing his mind of all the heaviness his position forced on him...which was considerable. The sea air, and the calls of the terns and plovers, made him oblivious to the man approaching him... 

"Cicolini!" 

Varrius spun to face his accoster. When he saw the man, his eyes widened a little, then narrowed rather severely. "What are you doing here, darkling? You should remember that you're not permitted to associate with me or any other high-ranking memb--" 

"Please," the large man snarled. "You and I are on the same objective for now. I merely came to warn you that I've already started ensuring that our targets will be eliminated very briskly, and that you might want to remain at a distance if you don't want to get in a crossfire." 

Cicolini hissed in anger. "You should know that we are still looking into our discoveries, Urien. We have found important anomalies with respect to the remaining Marids. We simply cannot do any eliminating yet...unless you're willing to risk the death of innocent bystanders..." 

Urien chuckled cruelly. "Varrius, you fool, _you_ should know that I am already convinced that we have the appropriate quarries. I have already found two assassins with more than enough power to destroy the Marids we found, whatever may transpire. Out of what little respect I have left for..." Urien spat. "...your liege, I am warning you, and Hunding through you, to vacate yourselves when the time comes--and you will know when it comes. I am otherwise not responsible for your fates." 

Varrius's anger came to a head. "I'll be happy to take responsibility for THIS, though! PRISMATIC AURA!" A scintillating shell of multi-colored light suddenly appeared around Varrius, the edge where Urien would have been, had he not somehow been teleported away before the shield formed, as Varrius found out when he ended the power. He hissed in anger, fury flashing through his violet eyes. 

"You won't have it your way, basilisk. You simply will not." 

***Inside the Thien mansion, 5:52 p.m.*** 

"You want to do...what, again?" 

Yashiro smiled across the library where the four were chatting at Hunding. "I'm planning to use everything I've researched on the Orochi legend, and similar myths from around the world, to create the ultimate in rock operas...and quite a coup over the Arashi Samurai." Yashiro ignored the way Chris rolled his eyes. "And you won't believe what I've found out. For instance...I believe you know how Orochi is depicted as an eight-headed, eight-tailed dragon?" 

"Yes, Yashiro. I know plenty about Japanese mythology." 

"Well, I found a story which suggests that this hydra-Orochi is really an emblem of eight fell warriors who served a powerful, corrupt spirit, all of them trying to conquer the world so Orochi could remake it in its image. To achieve this, eight maidens--the Kushinada sisters--were to be sacrificed so their dormant ki could be absorbed by each of the eight, and allow them to bond with their corresponding Tenmashin." 

"Tenmashin? I've never heard that term before." 

"I found it in a rather obscure work--I think there's only one copy in existence, held by Councillor Asahina Hitomi. Anyway, the Tenmashin were Orochi's eight supernatural lieutenants, one each for the elements of Fire, Sound, Electricity, Wood, Water, Earth, Metal, and Air. These eight are perhaps better known to you by the names they used among humanity--Kali of Earth, Kingu of Electricity, Morrigan of Metal, Moloch of Fire, Hiisi of Wood, Tlaloc of Water, Anshar of Air, and Hecate of Sound. They were all charged with catalyzing humanity's self-destructive impulses so Orochi could get its hegemony all the more quickly." 

Hunding whistled. "Eight mythological gods...and given their provinces, I can see how they would have done their work! Anyway, if I remember the story correctly, one Kushinada was not sacrificed, but saved by Susa-no-o, who slew the dragon Orochi. How is this going to be different?" 

It was now Chris who spoke. "The actual legend talks about two mystic warriors, Kusanagi and Yasakani, who fought the eight warriors, Kusanagi with his sword and Yasakani with his mystic fire, and the priestess Yata who helped rescue the last Kushinada. However, the three would still have been defeated...had Hecate not turned against Orochi." 

"Turned against Orochi? So Orochi didn't choose the most heartless of the gods for its Tenmashin?" 

"No way. Hecate, Tlaloc, Morrigan, and Hiisi had all been conscripted against their will. It was first Hecate who found an opportunity to get out of Orochi's service, because the Kushinada who was to be sacrificed to her was instead rescued. Therefore, she could avoid possessing her corresponding warrior. As a result of THAT, that warrior regained her free will, and recognized the foulness of Orochi's mission." 

Shermie stretched out in her chair. "You can probably guess the rest. The sound-warrior joined Yasakani and Kusanagi against the remaining seven warriors, and forced their Tenmashin to give up. Orochi was prevented from awakening to our world, and with its influence slowly waning, Morrigan could also escape her dark duties...and Tlaloc and Hiisi start their own attempts to corrupt humanity into a dominion of their own. Although, Hiisi met plenty of successful resistance by the other gods from the word go, and Tlaloc's plans were destroyed with the fall of the Aztec Empire." 

A smile was now clearly visible on Hunding's face "You have to get Councillor Asahina to consider getting her volume published. Can you imagine the popularity of the retelling of one of Japan's greatest legends? Hitomi would make a killing!" 

"One problem, though." Yashiro smiled. "She happens to be very clannish about her collection of works--it took me a while to get her permission to look into the tome. Anyway, what comes next sort of touches on ourselves personally. You see, the sound-warrior, Yagami, fell in love with Yasakani. Kusanagi felt concern over what the issue of his friend and a former Orochi warrior would be like, but he would not prevent their marriage. When Yagami first gave birth, she yielded a twin son and daughter. The daughter, Kagura, became a great researcher into and warrior against the forces of those Tenmashin who remained loyal to Orochi. However, the son, who took Yagami's name as his own, still carried the Orochi Trace, and was subject to occasional possessions by Moloch, whose warrior had been defeated by the first Yagami, and only Kagura was able to help her brother get out of those fits. The second Yagami's children were again a son and a daughter, both of whom had relatively mild traces of Orochi power. We don't know what happened to the daughter's line, but in the 1330's, one of the son's line, Yagami Hiroto, made a fell pact with Moloch, to gain power like that used by the true fire-warriors of Orochi. He used this power to wipe out all of his closer relatives. His power, though, ravaged his sanity, and to this day, all of his descendants--including, we think, YAGAMI Iori--have been afflicted by a general detest for humanity." 

A slight frown appeared on Chris's face. "That reminds me, Yash. We all know that Minoru--you know, your near-mirror image?--has been the biggest problem for our live concerts, being at the lead of almost every usurpation attempt. Why did you want to humiliate IORI, and not Minoru?" 

"Simple. Iori was in the KOF '96, Minoru wasn't. And can you think of some other way to humiliate somebody around the world than a sporting event like that?" 

Hunding, in the meantime, was in a state of deep thought. _Too deep,_ Shermie thought, as she watched him. _There's obvious worry on his face. Like the mention of the King of Fighters is calling up some unpleasant memory..._

"You plan to WHAT!?" 

Both Shermie and Hunding whipped their heads towards Chris, who was staring at Yashiro with disbelief. "You heard me," the white-haired rocker smiled. "We'll try to get into KOF '97 and flatten Yagami--or, if he's there for some odd reason, Minoru--and just get our revenge a year later than planned." The same look of bliss from the airport was on his face. 

Shermie blew into her hair, which had already started to fall in front of her small eyes. "Uh, Yashiro-kun, I think you meant 'your' revenge, not 'our'. Chris and I are perfectly content with living and letting the Samurai live. Why can't you do the same?" 

"You can actually take their mockery peacefully!? The zenith was ours before THEY came on the scene. It was ours by right!" 

Hunding raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think you should be asking the fans about this? They decided they liked Iori and his band better than you, not this Minoru you seem to hate so much. Besides, Shermie herself said that your record line was doing fine. Can't you rest on those laurels?" 

Yashiro was about to start his response when Varrius fairly blew in, dismay clear on his face, his eyes directed at Hunding. "Hunding...we've got to talk. Now." 

Hunding nodded towards Chris and his comrades. "If you'll excuse us..." Chris and Shermie nodded back in response--Yashiro was too busy composing the next piece of his anti-Samurai diatribe. Almost as soon as the two older men left into an adjoining room, Yashiro began trying to convince Shermie of the rightness of his ways. Chris, knowing from experience that intervention would be futile, decided to try to eavesdrop on what Varrius was so worried about--after all, it did concern his uncle. He carefully leaned to the outward edge of the threshold, straining to listen past Shermie and Yashiro's "conversation"... 

"...is planning kills on them, then get Rose to find someone to help out here. How hard can it be?" 

"_Very_ hard. How willing do you think the President is to contact her? He's not exactly buddy-buddy with the Prism! It may take me a day or two to get his authorization!" 

"Do what you must, Varrius. I'll do my part by ensuring that Chris will be in at least good battle-shape. What better way to protect--" 

At that point, Chris noticed that Varrius was turning so he would face the threshold. Chris quickly ducked away from the doorway, and retreated to his chair, pretending that he had been engrossed in his bandmates' debate, which he in reality had heard around twenty times before in some variety or another. Around five minutes later, Varrius and Hunding came back in. Chris noticed that Varrius was a lot calmer than when he came in, and Hunding wasn't any more or less worried than before. Well, maybe a _little_ more worried. He quickly walked over to Hunding's side. "Uncle, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing of immense import. Varrius and I can handle it...but I'll need to see you later this evening." 

Chris noticed that something was eating away at Hunding's fortitude. "Maybe you had better rest for the evening...I'll be only too happy to cook for us. It's one of the few ways I have of being unassailable by Yash. Say, Varrius, are you going to be eating here tonight?" 

Varrius smiled. "Of course. Hunding and I will be conversing on this problem far into the evening. There's no way I'll get back to Stockholm tonight." 

"All right then, I'll have to prepare food for five. Now let's see..." 

"Oh, Chris," Shermie interjected--Yashiro had finally left her at a loss for rebuttals. "I noticed Hunding's growing some eggplant here. Try making something with that as a major ingredient. I mean, since I had to swallow _this_ swill..." Shermie grinned evilly at Yashiro. 

Again, a rare, slight smile from Yashiro. "Only if it includes plenty of celery as well." 

_"HEY!!"_

Soon, a new debate, this one culinary in nature, broke out between the two. Even Hunding had to grin at the proceedings. Chris chuckled, then whispered to him. "Three words: Benedick and Beatrice. I suppose I'd better start finding recipes and ingredients before they try to drag _me_ in for 'expert opinion'." 

Varrius nodded, barely avoiding breaking out in laughter. "Go on. It's not often I get this sort of entertainment for free." 

Still grinning, Chris sprinted towards the kitchen, already rummaging through his mind for appropriate dishes...and what he had heard Hunding and Varrius discussing. Clearly, they were attempting to stop some sort of assassination, and they thought he might be of assistance. Apparently, they had heard about his training under Asahara Kisada. Still, Chris was apprehensive about having to go through this. Especially considering the sort of killing field he had once gone through in Japan...he preferred not to think about what had nearly befallen him...and _definitely_ not that black-and-white-armored samurai...   
  


***Near the central Norwegian-Swedish border, 6:01 p.m.*** 

"Now, come on, everyone...HEEEEAAAAVE!!!" 

Clark Steel and Leona Heidern merely grunted in affirmation as they helped their comrade, Ralf Jones, work the pulley bringing the massive piece of machinery up to their ledge. They were busy cleaning out a ruined bunker that once belonged to NATO back in the 1960's, now suspected of being targetted for use by a terrorist group. A NATO official had contacted their commander, Maidret Heidern, to acquire his troops' services, mostly because their legendary battle skills might be needed in case those selfsame terrorists came back, as was rumored. 

Secrecy had been given as being extremely important on this one. The piece of equipment being hauled up was an example of why. The device was at least decades ahead of its time--the core of a power system that apparently used superconductors which could operate at two hundred kelvins. It was clear that whoever had overseen this project had access to some decidedly interesting technology. 

"Keep it up...unnnhhhh...I suppose this is what we get for taking such menial work..." 

"Oh, quiet, Ralf...umph...part of the deal was that we would get blueprints for the less advanced devices--like the ones we could actually make ourselaaAAACCKK!" Clark had suddenly lost his footing on the ground, and fallen with his arms getting pulled forward a bit by the resulting recoil in the cable. Ralf and Leona quickly steeled themselves to take in the recoil from the pulley. Despite the added difficulty, the three were able to, in a few more seconds, get the generator to the ledge. 

With the newest piece of equipment safely brought up, Ralf checked on Clark. "Still all right, Clark? How much strain did you receive?" 

"Not THAT much. Still, I'm glad this was the last piece. I can rest my arms to tomorrow morning...um, that is when the NATO helicopters are coming to pick all this up, Commander?" 

"Yeah, it's still on." The Argentine mercenary glanced around himself. "I'll be glad to be out of this coldfest, though. Commander Heidern said that our next mission will be to disable one of SLORC's shipyards--they're apparently building some sort of super hydrofoils there, to blow off anybody who might nose around for human rights abuse evidence or drug traffickers. I'd better keep my journal extra-detailed for that one--I can smell an action movie in that mission." The looks he received from Clark and Leona quickly made him decide against that decision. 

Ralf noticed that Leona was looking a bit distant just now. She had been this way periodically ever since that pesky robot-fest in the Amakusa Islands. And he still couldn't get her to talk about her trauma there..."Hey, Leona. Is everything all right?" 

A shiver could be faintly seen in Leona's face. "I...I don't know. It's like when Goenitz tried to...to..." She shuddered at the memory of how Goenitz had tried to awaken her dormant Orochi force after she and her comrades had lost in the KOF '96 to Yagami Iori's team. "It's like a convergence, and growing stronger somehow. Like some great, foul entity is preparing to come here." 

Ralf and Clark looked at each other with concern. After their rather unsuccessful attempt to keep Goenitz from disrupting KOF '96 and the last battle between Iori's team and Kagura Chizuru, they knew better than to doubt anything relating to Orochi. Ralf turned back to Leona, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Relax, Leona. Even if it is Orochi, how's it going to get out? I mean, Goenitz is gone for good, and the Orochi force is sealed off. What could possibly be happening?" 

Terror remained on Leona's face. "Yet...I feel as though...Orochi's kept the door wedged open a bit...just enough for someone to help it out with enough effort..." 

***Unknown location in Sweden, 6:22 p.m.*** 

Edward Gargrave scowled at one of the two men in front of him. "I know I told you several times that Onyx here and I are sufficiently skilled to avoid killing unnecessary targets. Now, you have made perfectly clear to us who the Marids are, so I don't see why you bothered telling Varrius what we were up to!" 

"Quite simple, Garlon," Urien smiled, using Edward's nom de'guerre. "I wanted to make it perfectly clear to Mr. Cicolini that I would not tolerate the presence of him or Hunding at wherever you choose to make the killings." 

"What are you so worried about?" 

"That Hunding and Varrius might be able to impede your progress. I realize you two should be able to handle them...but them and the Marids both? I very much doubt it, and those two idiots are probably self-deluded enough to attempt to protect them. I happen to know Varrius's power from experience, which is why I think all five would be too much for you. In all events, you must not let them bar your way! I have done my part by warning them off--they might have enough sense to abandon those three." 

Garlon tightened his grip on his sheathed cutlass. He resembled a 19th-century European soldier in full colours with his dark blue, black-trimmed outfit, and his cultivated blond mustache and goatee. The only thing out of place was his Australian accent. "That's not much justification. Before, Varrius didn't even know what we were up to. Yes, Hunding had some inklings as to your plans, and Varrius's men and elementals could have detected us as we tracked our quarry...but the fact of the matter is that he now knows precisely what we have in mind--remember, he's trying to do something about the Marids too! Just not necessarily killing them, but maybe whatever it was Hunding underwent. Now, we can expect plenty more resistance than if you had deigned to keep quiet on this." 

Urien's visage darkened, apparently hardening in the literal sense of the term. "You know the power I command now, Garlon. Do not tempt me to expose it to you in all its glory by questioning me." 

The third man chuckled quietly from behind his face-covering mask, his voice filled with electrical static. "You're not going to try _attacking_ us, are you? Gargrave's thaumaturgy or my swordsmanship would each be a somewhat troublesome battle for you to handle. Together...you'd have no hope." His eyes--the only part of his face visible--narrowed with obvious warning, framed by his kabuto, lacquered in black-and-white striations like the rest of his do-maru. Hence his name, the Onyx Samurai. "The alliance between us isn't that strong, remember. Try not to tempt us to abandon it and put you back on the 'valid target' list." Onyx crossed his arms, and tilted his head to one side. "Although we really must be thankful to you, for finally helping us find out who the remaining Marids were. Our major goals are safe now." 

"Once we slay our targets, that is." Gargrave sighed, and drew his cutlass. "Well, I guess we'll just have to make do with the new obstacle our friend's forced on us. It's hunting time." Garlon turned back to Urien, and frowned. "Just hope what you've done doesn't wreck our work irrevocably." 

Urien snickered. "You give too little credit. It's not as severe as actually questioning me, but under the right circumstances, I could still consider such an offense worthy of my greatest punishment--" 

"I will assume you don't mean your overly presumptious personality." Edward gestured towards his fellow assassin. "Let's go." 

***Thien Mansion, 7:50 p.m.*** 

"There's got to be a good rhyme for this line..." 

Shermie scowled at the incomplete libretto in her hand. Her latest song idea was at no loss for a good melody--Yashiro had seen to that, and was busy separating it for Ukuuchukan no Mikoto's various members. The coda of the libretto, though, was not coming along nearly as swiftly. She hoped Chris's project, was doing better. Somehow, he always got his librettoes working quickly. 

The fact of the matter was, Chris had already finished that project, natural poet that he was. But Shermie would not be getting his assistance, since he was occupied with a more pressing matter, and Varrius was just about to ask a favor of her... 

"You want to see what I've learned from Kisada-sensei?" 

"Why yes, of course." Hunding waved his wand down a little to emphasize his point. He and Chris were on the rocky shore near the mansion, ready for a practice battle. "I'd heard about your newly-found martial abilities, and I wanted to match them against my own pyromancy. After all, finding Kisada will be a bit difficult from here." 

"Well...all right." Chris smiled a bit. "I just hope you keep the heat down a bit." 

"I'm not going to risk killing my own nephew." Hunding settled into a battle stance, his wand extended like a short sword. "Ready?" 

Chris nodded, then immediately started a dashing elbow strike. Hunding lunged forward to get in the first blow. However, before he could react, Chris blinked out, and immediately blinked back in, now sliding, right at his feet. "I'm down here!" Chris called as he swept Hunding down. 

"And now...up! _Comet Sunderer!_" Hunding quickly spun around with his wand extended and trailing coppery flame. Chris yelped in surprise as the force of the blast carried him up into a vertical arc of flame. _At least the copper flames aren't any hotter than a hot water bath..._Chris vaulted back upon landing in order to get some distance for his next strike. Hunding was ready.   
  


"SOLAR PIKE!!" he called as he jerked his wand forward, causing several explosions of copper fire to materialize in a line in front of him. Chris threw himself to his left to avoid the blasts, then leapt up. Hunding attempted another Comet Sunderer, hoping to catch him again. Chris, on the other hand, thwarted him by attacking him too quickly for the attack--by blinking in mid-air into a diving kick. Hunding's turn let him avoid most of the force, but he was still rendered a bit unsteady by the glance he had received. Chris took full advantage and grasped him, going into a comma throw, but suddenly changing on the ground to a handstanding foot launch. Chris got back up from the Aerial Drop at about the same time Hunding hit the ground. 

"That's good...but you haven't seen most of my repertoire yet!" Hunding immediately did another Solar Pike, watching as Chris neatly phased away from the line of fire, then immediately summoned another to catch his path. Chris gasped in disbelief as he plowed right into the copper fire, and only barely managed to keep his footing--which he immediately lost as Hunding quickly slide-kicked him from his left. Fortunately, he recovered just as he heard his uncle's next attack... 

_"Fog Splitter!"_ Chris looked up to see Hunding above him in the air, sweeping his flame-covered wand straight down. He elected to stay in a crouching position. When Hunding was just a third of a second away from striking, Chris revealed what he was planning--a powerful ascending fist strike to the chest that knocked Hunding out of the Fog Splitter and to an initially unsteady stance on the ground. 

"Bravo, bravo!" Hunding smiled at Chris. "Now...what's your answer to this? _Storm Sweeper!_" A sphere of copper fire formed around Hunding as he rushed Chris, who merely deflected him with an upraised, protecting leg. 

"I'll just have to use most of my power." Even as he spoke, Chris rapidly blinked several times towards the recoiling Hunding, creating a burst of orange ki each time he rematerialized. The second blast caught Hunding, who was then helpless to avoid the remaining six. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath. 

"I...I'm fine...I think I'll just have to rest here for a little while." Hunding laid his head on his wand arm. "I'll confess, I've heard much about ki-wielders being able to accomplish superhuman feats of mobility and generate energy flares...but not teleportation or phasing of the prowess you seem to have." 

Chris shrugged. "Kisada doesn't know where I'm getting it either. It took him thirty years to develop his teleportation abilities. And then I come along, a boy of thirteen...Kisada's puzzled, to say the least." 

Hunding chuckled gently. "So would most of the other great ki-wielders I've heard of. I'm especially pleased of your prowess because...well..." The usual look of worry reappeared on Hunding's face. He let out a sigh. "We think someone may be trying to kill someone important to the goals Varrius and I have been working towards. That someone is very near Hallstavik, so we can go into action as soon as we receive word from Varrius's aides. If you permit, I would appreciate it if you helped us out, since you seem an accomplished fighter." 

A shiver ran through Chris as he weighed what had just been said. _I'm in no hurry to relive that nightmare in the Amakusa Islands again. Yet, someone needs my help..._Chris made his decision. "I'm willing to help. Actually, Yashiro and Shermie also have some battle skills--they've participated in some minor tournaments. Should I ask them about this?" 

"You don't need to bother. Varrius is already testing them as I tested you." 

A low whistle. "I've got to see this." 

It took Chris a few minutes to reach the clearing where Hunding said Varrius was conducting his test. Just as he came in view, he heard Varrius shout. 

"PRISMATIC MIGHT!" Chris could see a massive beam of multi-colored light blast out of the clearing, at ninety degrees to his own path. Chris decided to wait until the show was over, then carefully slipped into the clearing. There, he saw a somewhat beaten-up Varrius, now garbed in an odd outfit of a red jacket, black pants and shoes, white gloves, violet vest, and green shirt. In front of him, Yashiro and Shermie were both trying, unsuccessfully, to shake themselves out of a daze. They quickly gave up, and lay prone on the ground. Varrius looked around himself, and seeing Chris, waved to him. 

"They're good warriors, although they don't handle lusomancy that well." Varrius cast an appreciative eye towards the two semi-conscious fighters. "Yashiro's got a lot of power for such a minor warrior. And Shermie...well, I doubt my neck or ribs will return to their normal shape before tomorrow's dawn. I'm amazed at the strength she holds in her legs. Anyway, they both fought very well against my sort of caliber...until that light show you probably saw, of course." 

"You need all three of us for this protection bit?" 

"I'm afraid so. We're sorry to have to presume on your vacation like this, but this is kind of important if the world is to remain stable." 

"Ah, no problem. Naonobu will tell you we're pugnacious enough to have a little fun of this sort from time to time. All I'm worried about is that Yashiro take any success we have and rub it into Minoru's face. We're opposed too much already--I don't want our rivalry to get worse. On the bright side, our recent forced cancellations have given us lots of time to write new songs for our fans." 

"Chris...your look of...innocence...can't protect...you forever..." 

"Oh, quiet, Yashiro." 

***Northern Sicily, 8:39 p.m.*** 

The clear night sky graced Sicily with its constellations, undiluted by city lights. The sound of the gentle breeze only helped to magnify its beauty of infinity. And the only thing breaking the darkness in one area was the light coming from a villa built there. Until just minutes ago, the silence had been exiled by the sounds of battle from within the villa, only now ended. And lying on the ground and watching the stars was the victor, the warrior woman known to the world as King. She had just finished, with some assistance, bringing Andy Bogard and Shiranui Mai low in a bout that was meant as practice for the upcoming KOF '97. King, for one, was becoming more impatient with every week for the tournament to commence. In each of the three prior tournaments, her team had come ever closer to victory before being defeated. 

King smirked to herself at the memory. _It was just as well, I guess, considering Rugal and Goenitz...Even so, it would be nice to get top honors this year, if only for the off chance that we don't have anybody like them waiting at the end._ She shook her head in self-deprecation. "Yeah, right." 

"Is something wrong, Miss King?"   
  


"Hm?...Oh. Nothing to do with you, Dudley." King sat up and turned towards the welterweight boxer. "Just thinking about what this next tournament might be like in comparison to the others." She turned her hand flippantly. "You'd better be ready for somebody...shall we say...not nice running things." 

Dudley Vaughan nodded and smiled. "I assure you, Miss King, I have prepared myself for precisely that eventuality. In fact, there is one such hooligan I'm hoping to meet." 

King frowned in confusion. "What kind of guy are you looking for?" 

Dudley looked down and clenched his hand, inadvertantly summoning a tiny wisp of sonic ki to whirl about his fist. Despite being a businessman, he had become known as one of Britain's premier boxers in recent years. Particularly since his father's company had fallen into dire straits, at which point Dudley took up prizefighting to recoup the losses all the more quickly. Whether it was from determination to help his business, or from his minor sonic ki powers mixed with his boxing, he had risen to his sport's zenith incredibly quickly. And recently, he had been invited to the King of Fighters tournament, which he would be attending with the British government personnel Cammy White and Devon Wiles. During the present time, he had been practicing with Rose and her other guests for the tournament. Most recently, he had helped King manage to wrench victory from Andy and Mai. And now, he was thinking of whom he'd like to prove his abilities to most of all. "It happens to be the man who all but ruined my father's company." 

King raised an eyebrow. "You think this guy might be involved in the tournament? I hope he isn't like the last two..." 

"I don't know, Miss King. But I have a friend who works with Gill, and he says that he wants to hold a tournament at some point to gain exposure to other martial arts. Apparently, Gill's exact words were 'the sheep's arts'." 

King had to stifle a laugh. "'Sheep'? Oh, God, he's another Rugal! I hope history repeats itself with him!" 

"Actually, Gill's motives in everything--including betraying my father--are, to him at least, benevolent. He's under the impression his tyranny is required if humanity is to survive." Dudley shook his head in amusement. "The only reason my friend stays with him is to try to reform him. Unfortunately, progress is minimal--and he's been with the lout for twelve years so far." 

King sighed. _Why do I get the feeling that this tournament is going to be like the last three, if this "Gill" is involved?_ "But he is making progress?" 

"Apparently, yes. With each passing year, he's gotten Gill to tone down on the military parts of his schemes." 

A wide grin etched itself onto King's face as she lay back down on the ground. "Hey, at least he's doing better than poor Kaphwan-kun..." 

***Thien mansion, 1:12 a.m.*** 

Varrius pored over his documents for what seemed like the twentieth time thus far. The only things decorating the small, spare study where he was doing his work were a small lamp, a samovar, a teacup, and several used teabags. Varrius concentrated on the document in his hand as he took another sip of Earl Grey. _It's all pretty clear...the reports I just received suggest the Marids are somewhere in the country...now if I can get permission to have Rose--_A ringing from Varrius's jacket pocket interrupted his reverie. He fished out a cel phone and opened it. "Hello, Varrius Cicolini speaking." 

"Varrius, this is also a video transmission. Make sure I can see your face." 

"Oh." Varrius smiled as he followed the instructions. "Sorry for the inconvenience, Gill." 

"No matter. You mentioned that you needed to contact Rose to try to resolve the Marid problem with as little going awry as possible, like assassins targetting the wrong people. Because of the gravity of this situation, and since we're at what would be called peace right now, you have permission to contact Rose and ask of her anything you find necessary." 

Another great weight seemed to lift from Varrius's chest. "Thank you, my friend." Varrius could scarcely conceal his glee. "We have an appreciable chance of success now." 

"That's what I need, Varrius. I'd like there to be something left to restore. As much as I'd like to discuss more with you, I have a few other problems of equivalent urgency. Gill out." The cel phone went dead. 

_Brusque tonight. I thought he could take staying awake this long better, although I guess his superiority complex would prevent that sort of demeanor. _Varrius returned to his documents, and immediately saw something which caught his eye. He checked it, rechecked it with other notes he'd made, then smiled in contentment. He took out a map of Sweden, and circled a spot in the north near the Norwegian border. 

"Here," he breathed. "Marstj‰llik." He stood from his desk, and quickly marched over to a phone. He knew whom he would have to contact--and not just Rose. 

***Near the summit of Marstj‰llik, 1:35 a.m.*** 

A lone man watched from his hidden post as he let the gentle winds blow past his face. Marstj‰llik was one of his favorite places for resting--especially since his usual seat there was almost a kilometer above sea level. A smile formed on his face as he reviewed the dark landscape before him yet again. _Soon, we will no longer have to wait. In but a few months, all will be back to its true form, true image, true liege..._He did not turn as he heard two other people enter the haven. "Daughter of Kingu, Son of Moloch, report." 

The one addressed as Son of Moloch spoke first. "Well, Son of Kali, I have good news and really good news. The good news is that Gill's men won't be getting at that old base anytime soon. NATO's hired fists have already cleaned it out. The really good news is that a Daughter of Hecate is among them." 

The Son of Kali spun around with pure delight on his face. "Excellent! The more Marids we can bring back under our Lord Orochi's aegis, the better! You must see to it that she can be brought back in." 

"No problem. I'll just get a bit of collateral with one of her comrades. I have one in particular in mind--I can sense a bit of love between them, although I'm not yet sure whether it's platonic or romantic." 

The Daughter of Kingu snorted in derision. "What does it matter? Both are rather pitiful replacements the Free-Willed designed for total obedience to Orochi. Now, Son of Kali, I have found, like the Son of Moloch, two exquisite pieces of news. The first is that the Catalysts are here." 

"Not bad, although we'd need just the right environs for them--and that's a few months in the coming." 

"You haven't heard the other piece yet. Urien hired a pair of assassins to get rid of us--don't interrupt yet--and--get this--one of them is the Onyx Samurai." 

Dead silence reigned for twenty seconds. The Son of Kali finally managed to speak. "The Onyx Samurai...he must have brought his swords..." 

"Mm-hmm. Just the kind of additional catalyst we need to help our Lord Orochi back over here immediately." 

Determination raged in the Son of Kali's eyes. "Where is he?" 

"He and Garlon are, I think, already in Hallstavik. In fact, why don't you go over with an air tenma or sound tenma for an extra eye and lure the two over here? I can get the Catalysts over here, and Moloch's Son can follow his own plan with the Daughter of Hecate." 

"Perfect. Our goals have been assured. Soon, our Lord Orochi will have His rightful dominion over the world once again. For the glory and power of Orochi, and us His obedient servants, the Marids." 

"For the glory and power of Orochi, and us His obedient servants, the Marids." The Daughter of Kingu and Son of Moloch spoke the benediction almost as one. The three then departed on their separate missions, together a mission of woe towards humanity. 

End Chapter One   



	2. Falling Shadows

  
DARK CRESCENDO, CHAPTER TWO 

Falling Shadows 

All relevant copyright information is on Chapter One. 

***** Somewhere on the Kii Peninsula, Japan, 10:12 a.m. (2:12 a.m. in Sweden) ***** 

Flushed with exertion, Kagura Chizuru re-entered her house after her morning bicycle workout. Usually, she preferred to sleep late when she could—that is, until 10:30 a.m. However, this day, she'd had a premonition that she would do best to start a bit early. After taking off her helmet, she went back to her bedroom, wondering whether or not she could get away with going back to sleep without her conscience bothering her. Then she noticed her telephone's voice-mail was activated. Her curiosity piqued, she activated the playback. 

When she heard Varrius's message, she was immediately glad she had woken up early. It was a bit early to call Varrius back, but the sooner she thanked him for disclosing where one of the Orochi shrines was, the better… 

***** Thien Mansion, 8:03 a.m. ***** 

Yashiro inched backwards, recoiling from the warrior approaching him. He knew who it was, certainly, but he still wasn't planning on getting too familiar. 

"Come, Yashiro," the warrior whispered. "Your duties come to a head. Return to the fold." 

Yashiro was at a loss for action. He knew he couldn't defy this monster…but he so loathed obeying it. All he could do was run away… 

…but he still ran right into his opposition. He screamed as the fighter grasped his throat. "Your choices end here. No more can you ignore your duty." Yashiro saw the face of his enemy, and screamed again… 

"YASHIRO! WAKE UP!" 

Yashiro suddenly sat upright in his bed, chill sweat streaming down his face. He looked around him with fear in his eyes, but became calmed when he saw Shermie and Hunding on one side of his bed, and Chris on the other. "Oh, man, I…geez, what a nightmare." 

"I can imagine." Shermie shuddered, clutching the lapels of her gown. "The first of your three screams woke me right up. Chris and Hunding were lucky they were already awake." She bent towards Yashiro, with obvious concern written in her face. "What was the nightmare, Yashiro-kun?" 

"I…I…" Yashiro slumped forward. "I can't relive it." Hunding noted something odd about Yashiro's aspect as he spoke this…like it was retelling the story, and not experiencing it, that was now terrifying Yashiro… 

"Well, no need to tell us now, Yash." Chris paused to greet Varrius as he rushed in, his hand full of papers. "Why don't you come with me, Shermie, and Hunding to the ponds? That's where we'll be catching breakfast." 

"No…no thanks. I need some time alone. I'm sorry." 

A frown formed on Shermie's face. "You're sure about this? Being outside will do you no end of good." 

"I'm sure of it. I just need to be by myself." 

"Okay. Your loss." Shermie beckoned to Hunding and Chris. "I guess we get all the fun to ourselves." She turned to Varrius. "If your business will allow it, please see to it that Yashiro-kun doesn't drive himself crazy?" 

Varrius nodded towards Shermie. "I will be only too happy to help him should he need it. Besides, I've got to get everything I learned about our assassin friends sorted out completely." He brandished the sheaf in his hand as he said this. 

"Then let's get started, shall we?" As the party left Yashiro's room to prepare for their trip, Hunding reflected on the way Yashiro had looked when he refused to recount the nightmare, or join the fishing party… 

_I know what presses on him…and I fear for what this presages. But how can only he be cognizant, rather than all or none…?_

Varrius watched as the trio left, then turned to Yashiro. "Interesting…I've actually gotten you alone almost at the beginning of your visit. I thought I'd have to wait a few days." 

A sheen of sweat began to rematerialize on Yashiro's forehead. "What…what did you want me for?" 

"Yashiro…we know. Hunding and I knew about the true nature of you three even before you came here. In fact, part of the reason we wanted you to come here was to do something about you being connected with the Orochi Alliance…" 

***** Campsite of Heidern's warriors, 8:17 a.m. ***** 

"Oh, man…_another_ 45-degree day?" 

Clark smiled at Ralf's complaint. "Where do you think we are, Spain? You withstood being here for four days—don't tell me you can't take another. Yeah, the fact that the helicopters got delayed by a day is an annoyance, but I doubt we'll have any real problems." 

"Come on, Clark, the sooner we get to do some real work in Burma, the better! I want action!" 

Clark grinned and shook his head as he rose. "Ralf Jones, the twenty-year-old encased in a body nineteen years too old." He then began looking around…"Hmmm…where's Leona now?" 

"Not very far. Daydreaming once again. At least you're the one on guard duty." Ralf gestured to the stones where Leona lay, gazing into the cloudy sky, memories blazing through her… 

_I remember it again…_

_The machines bear down on me, looking to scorch me, tear me, shock me…_

_Two dragonfly mechs rush me from above. Their charge ends not with me, but with a Voltaic Launcher._

_A lobster-type charges at me, sweeping the ground in front of it with the maser cannons it has for antennae. A single Ground Saber towards its claw shears it in two._

_It is so easy to handle these machines, with a glorious festival of fatal sound. Moon Slashers, Voltaic Launchers, Rebel Sparks, Ground Sabers, even my own, unaugmented gauntlets…all reduce the terrorist drones to so much scrap._

_Then, I hear it. The scream of a young man._

_But who lives in this part of the Amakusa Islands?_

_I move towards the scream, near where the robots were apparently radiating from._

_It is there that I see the carriers which brought the machines in. And two human figures, one a samurai in black and white armor, the other a young man, just barely in his teens, that the warrior is threatening with his swords…_

_My rage explodes. I charge the samurai, my Orochi blood boiling in anticipation of another's death and agony, my conscience barely restraining it. The samurai hears me, and turns to face me, his swords ready._

_And they are strange swords, hewn of crystal, silvery runes glittering with a dull light. But what matters is the battle._

_The samurai makes for an incredible fight. His swords create energy flares in a terrifying variety. I am brought down many times._

_But I still persevere. Even he falls to the Voltaic Launcher and Ground Saber. Finally, he retreats…but for how long?_

_I approach the child, who is shaking with fear. I hear his murmurs…"What destiny do you mean…why must I die?…"_

_Then he sees me. He does not become any less apprehensive. "Don't…don't hurt me…I was just exploring…" He looks to where the samurai retreated. "Why did he have to choose here to begin his attacks?"_

_Before I can even soothe the child, something about him awakens…hideous memories…are they even real?…_

_My hands and face stained with blood…my mother's blood…_

_Goenitz's victorious laughter…_

_My father trying to bring me to a place of refuge…Goenitz finding us…my father confronting him…_

_But now, I remember the words…_

**_"As a Hakkeshu, Gaidel, you bring great shame by mating with free-willed filth to create an unnecessary half-breed."_**

**_"The time of the Marids, and of Orochi, is over, Goenitz! Do you forget who I'm descended from? As far as I'm concerned, the original Yagami made the right choice!"_**

_**"Orochi, and Orochi alone in the universe—yea, the multiverse—decides what is right, wrong, good, evil…and I, as the Son of Anshar, shall show you the power He has** **decided I shall wield…"**_

_And I cannot bear to think about what happens then…_

_Then I see myself in a helicopter, with Ralf and Heidern looking on in concern. I blacked out just after meeting the child, and Ralf saved me just as the samurai returned. I ask them about the boy; they have not seen him._

_Even with my misfortune, the mission was a success. Although the samurai escaped, all the mechs and carriers were destroyed._

_But I still wonder what truly happened back there…_

"Come on…where the hell are you?" 

Leona stirred from her recollections on hearing Clark's voice all the way down the slope. _Is there someone here?_ She walked towards the top of the slope, where a smiling Ralf was already kneeling. 

"Poor Clark," Ralf chuckled. "He thought I was annoyed with the cold? Since he doesn't like children, he's going to know how I feel…but at triple strength!" 

"But what's going on down there?" 

"We heard a disturbance down there while you were daydreaming, and we saw what was apparently a child. Clark volunteered to check it out. Now, he probably wishes he ha—" 

"AAAGGGHHH!!!" 

Leona and Ralf rushed down the slope a ninth of a second after hearing Clark's scream. Once they reached the bottom, they saw what had caused him to scream. Clark, quite obviously in a daze, was kneeling and clutching his side—where his jacket was smoking. Before him, apparently the source of the blast, was…a young boy, maybe twelve, thirteen years old. And he seemed hideously evil for his age. The fact that he was wearing a violet version of Goenitz's uniform, and an eight-rayed octagonal amulet, didn't help matters any… 

Ralf shuddered. "Another Orochi…?" Then he noticed Leona quaking with fear. "Leona…is something wrong?" 

"He…he's like the boy I rescued…but not quite…" Leona quickly steeled herself and gazed at the child. "Who are you?" 

The boy apparently just noticed his new guests then. "Who am I?" His eyes flashed with a hellish red. "I'm the current Son of Moloch. You, on the other hand, aren't much if you're willingly working with these…" He spat the words out. "Free-Willed slime." 

Ralf scowled at the child. "Oh, so Clark and I are slime, is that it? Listen, kid, you might want to show some respect for your elders!" 

The Son of Moloch snarled at Ralf. "A true Marid respects no Free-Willed!" He began to create violet fires in his hands. "You're nothing more than the Kami's blasphemies against our Lord Orochi." 

Ralf and Leona drew back in some alarm when the flame formed. Ralf, however, quickly regained himself, and grinned. "Listen up, o high and mighty Son of Moloch, if I remember correctly, as of KOF '96, three of your kin are in their graves! And unless you move it—now—Leona, Clark, and I are gonna kick your arrogant behind from here to Madagascar!" Clark, for his part, had finally recovered from the Son of Moloch's attack on him. The set look on his face indicated that he would be only too happy to help Ralf out. 

Leona, though, wasn't quite ready to fight just yet. "Ralf, Clark…wait." She took a single step towards the fire-wielding Marid. "Tell me something, Son of Moloch. Were you ever in the Amakusa Islands in the past year?" 

The Son grinned. Ralf thought he would be sick from seing such an evil grin on someone so young. "In a way. But despite my knowing you somewhat, I'm going to put your friend there on the spot for challenging me…and for daring to classify the traitors Mature and Vice with my holy nature!" He then gestured to the ground. "Or rather, we will." 

Ralf crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "And who's this 'we', all of a suaaaAAHHH!!!" Ralf found himself vaulted back to the slope. As Clark and Leona watched in dismay, the very earth Ralf had been standing on rose up to six feet, and grew arms and legs, and a face of pure malice. Ralf felt his jaw go slack as he saw the monstrosity that had just made an appearance. "Good God…what is _that!?_" 

"An earth tenma," the Son of Moloch said. "The tenma, you see, are the elemental arm of Orochi's armies, and one can easily overpower four humans. So you shouldn't really be a problem." He then spoke to the tenma. "Deal with the sunglassed human. I have other plans for his comrades." The tenma nodded, then began to lumber towards Clark. 

"CLARK!" Leona shouted her comrade's name in alarm as she and Ralf rushed towards him. Clark, for his part, merely dropped into his battle stance as he prepared to do what he could against this monstrosity. He was pretty sure he could lift this horror—it probably wasn't that much heavier than Chang Koehan, and Clark had dispatched the flail-wielder with ease in the KOF '95… 

"HEY! Did I say you could help him? _Did I?_" The Son of Moloch threw a burst of fire in front of Leona and Ralf, which quickly grew into a wall of light violet flame. The two mercenaries managed to stop themselves just before striking the fire. A few moments later, the flame began to shimmer and change, resolving itself into a vaguely sea anemone-like form, complete with a multitude of tentacles. The top of the entity then bent down as though to look at its new opponents. 

Leona and Ralf looked at each other, communicating their thoughts to each other instantly. Another tenma. 

Ralf pulled back on his glove and stared at the fire tenma's maw. "Okay, buster, you're gonna find out what 'fight fire with fire' means!" He quickly created a sheathe of cool spiritual fire around his arms to avoid getting scorched, just as Leona was creating similar sonic guards on her arms and legs. He didn't get to do anymore when he felt a pair of feet clamp onto his left ribs. The next thing he knew, he was being swung away, courtesy of the Marid's Heavenly Malice attack. Leona tried to pull Ralf back, but the fire tenma swung several tentacles in the way. Leona leapt back, and tensed up. She would have to fight her way through the monster. 

Ralf picked himself up to find himself staring at the Son of Moloch. The Marid wasted no time, screaming a battle cry as he drew back, and held and pointed his fist at Ralf. Almost immediately, several blasts of violet fire came flying at him. Ralf threw himself to his right, then spun into a Gatling Attack. He listened with satisfaction as the third strike smashed into the Son's jaw. Smiling, he followed up with a foot sweep which knocked the Son prone, then rushed forward to Vulcan Punch him before he could get up. 

In the meantime, the two tenma had been getting quite a battle. The earth tenma, Clark had found, was a pretty simple fighter, just trying to hammer punch or punt him…although those certainly contained a lot of power, as his aching arm, which had received only a glance from a kick, was telling him. To his amazement, the tenma was both incredibly heavy, and impossibly agile, making any lifting rather difficult, but even so, not impossible. Leona, meanwhile, was trading blows—successful and attempted—with the fire tenma. The tenma's tentacles' habit of darting everywhere forced Leona to rely on quick gauntlet stabs and the occasional Moon Slasher, while her own speed forced the creature to forgo power for quickness. They had been maintaining an evenly matched battle—until Ralf tried to Vulcan Punch his Orochi foe. At that moment, the fire tenma withdrew its attention, except for a couple of tentacles, from Leona, and belched from its maw several fireballs. The blasts fell in a fan, and one succeeded in striking Ralf. The impact knocked him down, and allowed the Son of Moloch to get back up safely. 

The Marid stared at Ralf, with glee and hate shimmering in his eyes. "It ends here for you, human abomination. You're going to be the first to fall before our holy power." 

"We've got to talk to you about your definiton of 'holy'!" Ralf rushed at the Marid, and stopped to strike him with a backfist. Unfortunately, the Son had already ducked down to continue his attack, in the form of a few brief low kicks, two rotating punches, and finally a spinning, flame-augmented uppercut. Ralf managed to pick himself back up, and saw his enemy already beginning a slide kick. _Enjoy the surprise…_"RALF KICK!" Ralf performed a spinning jumpkick towards his foe, aiming his feet directly at where his head would be when he rose. He connected, but not hard enough to prevent him from righting himself in midair. The Son ran to the landing Ralf and proceeded to immediately jab his hands at him, each strike washing him with violet fire. At the end, he kicked Ralf away, then quickly shot a wake of fire with one hand, heavily impacting the soldier. Ralf was not able to get up. 

Clark looked back from his battle with the now-weakening earth tenma on hearing the last attack, and blanched on seeing his defeated commander. His cry of dismay was cut short by an explosion at his feet knocking him down. Quickly rising, Clark saw that the tenma had adopted a new tactic—shooting explosive crystals from its head. Clark rolled away from the next crystal, and to the tenma. Wasting no time, he summoned all his ki into rushing towards and grabbing the thing, hoisting it over his head, and preparing his new attack. 

The Son watched this, and the standoff between Leona and the fire tenma, with amusement. "Okay, what are you planning on this time? Make it quick, before I show your friend his species's destiny." 

"_RUNNING SLAYER!!_" 

The Marid swallowed hard as he saw Clark run at him, holding the tenma as though it were a spear. He slipped away just before Clark smashed the demon where the Marid had been. 

_You're still not safe, Orochi—_Clark ended his plan of using the tenma against the Son when he noticed the other battle's progress. Namely, Leona was starting to tire from her endless parrying of the fire tenma's tentacles, and evasion of the blasts it occasionally belched forth. Clark immediately picked the dazed earth tenma up again, and rushed with it at the fire tenma. The fire tenma was so absorbed in battling Leona that it never noticed its impending doom, until Clark actually scored his strike, releasing the earth tenma just before making contact. The earthen demon flew forward, carrying the fire tenma with it, straight into the hill slope. The force of the impact shattered the fire tenma into so many foul embers. In the process, the creature's heat suffused instantly into the earth tenma, causing it to explode into rubble. 

Leona stared at what was left of the two tenma for a few moments, then turned to Clark. "Thanks, Clark. I somehow get the feeling that if we had fought for just a few more minutes, I'd be nothing more than ash." 

Clark grunted his affirmation as he turned towards the disbelieving Son of Moloch. "Well, if we don't want Ralf to experience that sort of fate, I think we'd better do something about this kid!" The two mercenaries charged him as one, ready to punish him for what he had done to their comrade-in-arms. 

"I guess I can't kill you now…but I can keep you from doing the same to me." The Son pointed at Clark and Leona… 

…who immediately fell to their knees, covering their ears and screaming with agony as a horrid, deafening keen sounded through the air. The Son, obviously unaffected, watched without any reaction except a slight smile. "There are reasons why we like sound tenma. Their amorphousness, their ability to go through anything…and, of course, what you're now experiencing." The smile widened as he felt a whirlwind begin to form behind him—the air tenma that had, like the sound tenma, remained hidden until now. The Son quickly begin shooting thin rays of violet fire from his fingers into the ground, making a pattern of charred grass. He picked up Ralf's unconscious form, and stepped into the air tenma. The tenma suspended them in its eye, and flew away with unbelievable speed. A few seconds after the Marid escaped, the sound tenma ended its trill, and likewise flew away from the battlefield. 

Leona and Clark managed to pick themselves up, rubbing their ears while extricating their faces from their pain-contorted forms. "Good God," Clark murmurred. "Where do the Orochi come up with this sort of thing?" 

"Hell," Leona replied bluntly. "They get them from home—RALF!!" Leona ran over to where the Son's last attack had blasted him. Clark, realizing instantly that neither the Son nor Ralf was present, followed Leona. Where Ralf had been, there was now only a message of burnt grass and earth: 

**Daughter of Hecate,**

**For too long, you have consorted with and imitated the Free-Willed. Such a blasphemy against our Lord Orochi cannot go unpunished. Therefore, I have taken your friend to His most holy shrine on Marstjällik as a sacrifice to His glory. If for any reason you wish to see him before we bring upon him all that he or any other Free-Willed deserves, utter the words at the end of this message to trigger a portal that will take you to a place in Hallstavik, where you will find others who will be most willing to take you to the shrine. You may bring your other friend—we would be only too pleased to have more Free-Willed blood with which to write Orochi's most glorious name across reality.**

Clark shuddered as Leona knelt and scanned the arcane words written after the last part of the message. "This guy is really eaten up by hate, isn't he? He's as bad as Goenitz. But…what does he mean by 'Free-Willed'? Does he mean that he gave it up to Orochi?" 

Leona nodded. "I've had recurrent dreams where Goenitz appears to me, ordering me to leave humanity and devote my entire being to the service of Orochi. And each time, he warns me that free will is fatal to the perfection of reality that 'Lord' Orochi seeks. It's so strange, that the followers of Orochi see their evil as the ultimate good…" 

"Heh. That particular idea's nothing new. Ever read 'Mein Kampf'?" 

"I think I'll keep away from it, then." Leona quickly straightened up. "Now, I know this is likely a trap for us, but this is the only way we have to rescue Ralf. Hopefully, once we use the portal, we'll be near the people the Son of Moloch said will transport us, but not right in their midst. That way, we can tell whether or not subdual will be necessary." 

"If I hadn't known the circumstances of how you became Heidern's daughter, I'd have thought you inherited his caution genetically." Clark smiled as he stepped up to Leona, who was already uttering the mystic phrase in the message. As she spoke the last syllable, the area of the message quickly dissolved into pure energy, then reformed into a shimmering, vertical portal. Clark and Leona wasted no time in going through. 

***** Thien Mansion, 8:25 a.m. ***** 

"I assume you've heard the, um, 'popular' views on Orochi?" 

"How can I _not_ have?" Yashiro paced the balcony like a confined tiger. "Those stupid zealots actually preach it! 'Orochi will cleanse the world of humanity.' 'Only we are truly worthy of any kind of rights, including the right of existence.'" Yashiro made exaggerated poses as he uttered the quotes. "Well, I _know_ that they're fools! What kind of purity denies even the possibility of the unworthy becoming worthy?" 

Varrius shuffled through his papers again. "Well, my group and I still don't quite understand all of the Alliance's motives. Although from what we've learned of them, for most of the Alliance's history, those 'zealots' you hate are the kind that have always been foremost." 

Yashiro leaned on the balcony's railing. "That must be why Lord Orochi gets such a bad reputation." 

Varrius sighed as he squared his papers. "Forgive me, Yashiro, but given what the Alliance does, I can't see at all why you'd want to follow their god!" 

"He needs vindication from the zealots. As for the zealots themselves…" Yashiro smiled. "I hope they all go the way of the one who got killed a few years back in Metro City. Killed by a criminal—now there's irony! So much for being safe from the 'rabble'! They can't even remain safe from the _real_ rabble!" 

"Be that as it may, there is still the matter of how we're going to keep your not-exactly-friends from crashing the KOF '97 tournament. From my group's records, I've already figured out where their greatest shrine is—and fortunately for us, it's in this nation. The next step is to work out how to either destroy them—although I assume you'd rather the shrine be left intact—or at least keep their plan from coming about." 

"As much as I hate my superiors, I think it best if we just keep them from doing their plan, without killing them...or at least, the part of the plan that involves them killing any fighters they can." Yashiro's eyes unfocussed as he looked in the general direction of Marstjällik. "I never knew that that shrine was so important. Maybe there, we can get those zealots to see the true means of bringing purity to this world." 

"I still don't relish the thought of having to help bring a goal of any Alliance member forward, even one as noble-hearted as you. Perhaps I am prejudiced by the idea that the other members must be getting their quasi-mahou from some source, and that the most likely source is Orochi itself…" 

"Don't worry so much." The Orochi rocker smiled at Varrius. "I already know of a lot of people to ask Orochi to spare once He awakens. You and Hunding are already on that list." 

"Well, thank you, but…" 

Varrius's sudden silence concerned Yashiro. "Varrius, what is it?" Yashiro's question was immediately answered by the powerful wind blowing across the balcony. As he looked upwards, he saw the source: a massive windstorm, suspending in its eye a violet-haired woman in a militant, light blue dress, surrounded by sparks. 

"I think one of your zealot friends decided to make an impromptu visit. Along with an air tenma." 

The woman glared at Varrius and Yashiro, then quickly flipped out of the tenma. As she brought her legs down, electricity focussed around them, creating an arc that narrowly missed Varrius as she landed. "You will refer to this 'zealot'", she hissed, "as the Daughter of Kingu." 

Yashiro yawned. "Give me a break, _m'lady_. What do you want here? I can defend the faith just fine, thank you. I don't need _your_ flawed arguments to get in myaAAAHH!!" Yashiro was knocked to the ground by the sphere of energy created by the Daughter. 

"Flawed. Hmph." The Daughter turned to Varrius. "Leave. Now. I will not have some vile sorceror making things difficult for us." 

"Vile? I don't practice mahou." Varrius summoned flanges of lucid energy around his hands. "Although, if you want to be difficult, I can show you precisely what I practice." 

"It is your balanced nature that makes you vile! Die in the name of Lord Orochi! Now!" The Daughter jumped into the air and kicked at Varrius, right under his guard. As Varrius recovered, the Daughter pushed at Yashiro. "Leave the balcony, but wait for me within the mansion. I have need of you, but not this sorceror." 

"I'm not going to let him fall to you." 

_"THAT'S AN ORDER!!" _The Daughter hopped up a bit, and did a twinned kick that struck Yashiro back onto the mansion's floor. "Never forget that we define your existence, not just Lord Orochi." 

"PRISMATIC BOLT!" A blast of multicolored light smashed into the Daughter's back, forcing her to kneel in pain. Varrius directed his voice to Yashiro. "Just go find Hunding and the others! I can hold this Marid off long enough for the wood elementals to get here! Go, now!" 

The Daughter watched as Yashiro hesitated, torn between loyalty to his superior and to the first person who proved to not automatically kill Orochi's followers, then ran towards the mansion's doors. She then turned to the air tenma. "Have the other two tenma head off the elementals. You keep Yashiro busy yourself." She sneered at Varrius as the tenma flew off. "Who's going to be warned, again?" 

"I can see this will be a problem…have at you!" Varrius rushed forward, and kneed the Daughter in the stomach. The Daughter grimaced, but still managed to chop her arm down on Varrius's head. Varrius fell, but used his momentum to roll away from the Daughter. As he rose, he called "No, not today, hateful one. MIRAGE DANCE!" Varrius disappeared in a burst of light. As the Daughter tensed for his reappearance, six images of him reappeared around her on the balcony. 

_Okay, which one are you…_Making a guess, the Daughter did a head kick at the image behind her and to her right. As she did, the image shattered into motes of white light. An instant later, she received an uppercut from the real Varrius, who had been to her right, but in front of her. She snarled in rage as she rose, and flipped forward, striking down with her feet, one after the other. Varrius hopped away, and tensed his hands as he cast a spell. The Daughter, seeing this, leaned forward to use a Star-Rending Whip…a little too far… 

"MIRAGE BARRIER!" Varrius released the spell, creating a wall of light motes in front of him, their forward edge just hitting the Daughter, and therefore disrupting the Whip before she could even complete it. Grunting with pain, the Daughter flinched back, giving Varrius just enough distance to drive a kick into her chest. "You should be the one to leave here," he murmurred as she lay on the ground. 

"No…you shall certainly fall, in Orochi's name." A palpable buildup of electricity was gathering around her. 

Varrius shuddered, and prepared another Mirage Barrier. "It shall not be. Even if I do die, you still cannot win, not so long as the very universe cries out against you." 

"HOW CLEAR DO I HAVE TO MAKE MYSELF?" The Daughter suddenly took off into a ground-level, soaring, horizontal kick, her entire body covered with electricity. Unable to respond in time, Varrius was knocked back and carried forward by the attack. His scream of shock was cut off when his head struck the balcony's railing. The Daughter sneered at the unconscious sorceror. "We will _make_ the universe recognize that it needs Him to be perfect." With that, she turned away, and walked through to the mansion's doors. 

As she exited, she saw that the tenma had done their job well. Evidently, four wood elementals had attempted to reach Varrius, but hadn't made it before the two electricity tenma she had brought had blasted them into embers. The tenma themselves, ever-shifting masses of energy streams and ball lightning, were flanking the air tenma suspending Yashiro in its eye. Yashiro was anything but happy with the circumstances he was in. 

"Why, Daughter of Kingu? What's the point of this attack?" 

"Believe it or not, we can rescue Orochi right now. Today, if everything goes right, we can return Him to this world." 

"WHAT? But we need the KOF tournament to acquire enough energy to pull Him back from His prison!" 

"Not anymore. We found the Onyx Samurai in this country. The Son of Kali is sure to get his daisho, which will do well as a catalyst. One busy battle at the Marstjällik shrine with the daisho prepared will be enough to bring Orochi back." 

Yashiro struggled futilely inside the tenma. "Couldn't you have just invited Onyx's friends? Yasuhiro, Sukune, Wadi'a, Garlon, Whisper, Kazuo…the list goes on! That's more than enough with the daisho!" 

"It would be…but you and your two comrades are still needed at the shrine to guarantee the rescue's success, and the presence of the Daughter of Hecate will not hurt. With you at the shrine, I know your friends will not fail to pursue, along with Hunding and—if he wakes up in time—Varrius. The Son of Moloch has also assured me that Leona and her allies will also be present. It will be a great battle, a worthy herald of Orochi's return to this world that needs His purifying touch so much." 

Yashiro felt his head and throat grow cold with terror. "You…you promised that you wouldn't involve Shermie and Chris this heavily!" 

"The promise cannot be kept. It was valid at first, but that ended when the tournament became superfluous." The Daughter gestured at the two electricty tenma, who then flew away, back towards Marstjällik. "When they reach Marstjällik, perhaps you can choose then to introduce them to our faith." 

"_Our_ faith? _My_ faith, probably, but _yours?_ You don't know anything about purity." His face twisted with disgust. "I still pray that when Orochi comes, He will show you what true purity is." 

"Your words are foolish." She jerked her head towards the mansion. "Now, let's go. We have to await Varrius's friends, who must be rushing here by this time." The air tenma obeyed, and followed her, carrying Yashiro, into the mansion. 

***** During the above… (around 8:30 a.m.)***** 

"Woo-hoo!! One fish fry tonight, all invited! And a contest to decide who does the better fry, Hunding or Chris!" 

"We're right here, Shermie. Who are you trying to invite, the woodland animals or the elementals?" 

"Hunding…work with me…" Shermie went back to eyeing the six-strong string of fish she was carrying back to the mansion—the largest catch of the three strings, compared with Chris's four and Hunding's five. "I swear, that lake has better fishing than _any_ place I've tried in Japan. Only the fish market does better with its supply!" 

Chris chuckled. "As you'd know from plenty of experience." He turned to his uncle. "Miss Seafood Maniac here visits the fish market twice a week. She's gotten to be known as one of its most persistent bidders." 

"Hey, you want the best, you've got to have the will to make sure you actually get it." 

"If you don't mind getting the restauranteurs annoyed at you." Chris looked back at where the mansion would be—the thick woods were obscuring it from view. "This is certainly a lot nicer than Japan. Maybe we should move the band here." 

Hunding groaned. "Look, I can take the music, but the elementals are another story. They tend to be rather sensitive to sound." 

"Well, I could hope…" Chris's downcast expression only lasted a few moments. "I'm glad I finally got to meet you. I would have preferred to see you years ago…but how's a kid supposed to get out of Japan when his immigrant parents are dead, and he doesn't have legal-age guardians yet?" 

"I understand perfectly why we could never have met before. And believe me, I'm glad about how well you turned out. Experience has simply taught me to be wary about youth. So much fury, scorn, angst…but so long as there is still a sizable number of youth like you and your two friends, I think society will survive." 

"Wait a minute." Shermie's smile disappeared. "Hunding, you just said something about 'elementals'. I know you're a sorceror, but…are there _really_ elementals around here?" 

"Oh, yes." Hunding looked to his left, at which point his eyes widened in surprise. "And speak of the devil…two of the wood elementals are coming this way!" He brought a hand to his chin. "But what could they possibly want? They're usually pretty staid. They don't come to me for much." 

Shermie and Chris followed Hunding's gaze, and saw what was, at that point, the strangest sight of their lives. Two humanoid figures were heading their way—figures obviously made of tree bark and leaves, and incredibly tall. Animate trees, in fact. And each one was holding a human in its leaf crown… 

Shermie turned to Hunding. "I guess they found some intruders, and want you to talk to them." Her eyes shimmered still with disbelief at what she had just seen. Chris's eyes were still glued to the two plant beings. 

About a minute later, the elementals reached the trio, and carefully lowered their captives with their branches, dropping them just above ground level. As the captives began to pick themselves up, one of the elementals spoke, its voice vibrating from the tree bark it was being channeled through. "We found these two wandering the domain's outskirts. They were evidently seeking help for a friend of theirs, so we decided to bring them to you for questioning." 

"Well, if you wanted to be helpful, you could have let us climb down, instead of being dropped," the male captive growled. He and the woman both appeared to be soldiers. He then turned to Hunding. "I'll assume you're Mr. Thien. As far as I can tell, these two aren't tenma, so I'm guessing you're the 'help' the Son of Moloch was talking about." 

Hunding started at the mention of the Son of Moloch. "'Son of Moloch'? You know of—" 

"I…I don't believe it." Shermie, Hunding, and the male soldier turned to Chris, who was staring in shock at the female soldier. "You're the…the one who saved me…in the Amakusa Islands…" 

The female soldier, for her part, was herself not believing what she saw. "Impossible…you look just like him…but I can tell—" 

The male soldier grabbed Chris by the collar of his shirt. "Well, well, we thought you said you were going to be at Marstjällik. So, Son of Moloch…_WHERE THE HELL IS RALF?!"_

"'Son of Moloch'? Marstjällik? What are you talking about?" 

"Clark! Put him down! That boy is definitely not the Orochi we met!" 

Clark looked at the other soldier as he put Chris down. "You're sure, Leona? He looks and sounds like him…although his outfit certainly changed…" 

"No." Leona shook her head. "Trust me, I could feel the Son of Moloch's aura. This is not him." 

"Um, excuse us." Clark, Leona, and Chris turned to Shermie. "Could someone _please_ tell us what's going on here?" 

"I have a feeling I know," Hunding muttered. "Assassins, probably, and worse than the ones I warned you and Yashiro about." 

"Assassins?" Clark raised an eyebrow. 

"Direct from the Orochi Alliance." 

"'OROCHI Alliance'?" Shermie and Chris spoke together. Neither of them sounded very comfortable with the idea. 

Hunding sighed quietly. "I was afraid of this…you two are not going to like hearing this…" 

One of the wood elementals suddenly turned towards the mansion, somehow conveying shock without any kind of face, save for its eyes. "I think you'd better save the Orochi explanations for later, Sir Thien. Two other elementals just found a pair of electricity tenma near the mansion." 

"_TENMA?" _By now, the color was draining from the faces of Shermie and Chris. 

"Yes. We think a Heavenly King, probably the Daughter of Kingu, is attacking the mansion. We cannot speak any more—we must leave to help our brethren now." The two elementals ran towards the mansion with blinding speed. 

The five humans stared after the elementals, their minds reeling with shock. Clark finally broke the silence. "Okay…now I'm _sure_ you're not with the fire kid." 

A different thought woke Shermie up from her shock. "Oh, no…assassins…Yashiro and Varrius are still at the mansion!" She began to run down the path, dropping the now-forgotten fish, and beckoning the others onward. "C'mon, we've got to hurry!" 

********** 

"I don't believe it…" Shermie stared in shock at the remains of the wood elementals she and the others had just happened upon. "I didn't think tenma existed…but I certainly never imagined that if they did, they would be capable of _this…_" 

Hunding rushed to the open front doors of the mansion. "I'm not surprised so much, since I know firsthand how elementals and tenma hate each other. It's only to be expected that they would fight each other until one side or the other was completely destroyed." 

"Well, where's this Daughter of Kingu?" Clark entered the mansion right after Hunding, followed by Chris, Shermie, and Leona. "The Son of Moloch used tenma, too, so I'm guessing she's in with him." 

"We'd better split up to find the Daughter, Yashiro, and Varrius." Hunding rapidly indicated various parts of the mansion. "Leona, take the lower north wing. Clark, lower east. Chris, upper north. Shermie, upper south. I'll take lower south. Yell if you see _anyone._" 

The five split up according to Hunding's orders. As he prepared to search his wing, Hunding had to take a deep breath. _Of all the ways for Chris to learn the truth, THIS had to be the one…I don't feel prepared for all this. It feels like the Alliance has stepped up its schedule to reawaken Orochi, and I definitely don't want to meet that horror—_

_"SACRE DIEU, NON!!!"_

Shermie's shout summoned the other four searchers to the balcony she had reached. When they found her, she was clearly paralyzed with horror and shock. The scene at the balcony's edge made the cause clear. Varrius was slumped at the balcony railing, beginning to stir. Yashiro was suspended in a small windstorm. And kneeling on the railing was the Daughter of Kingu… 

…who, except for her outfit and violet hair, was an exact look-alike of Shermie. 

"Shermie…" Yashiro whispered. "Please, take Chris, Hunding, Varrius…get out of here…" 

The Daughter glared at him. "If they don't come, who's going to get you out of Marstjällik?" Even her voice was identical, although the tone was certainly wrong. She turned her gaze to Shermie, smiled, and dismounted onto the balcony. "At long last we meet, Shermie LeMieux, Chris Andersson…although I wasn't expecting this sort of reunion to come until the KOF tournament." 

Shermie, for her part, was having trouble getting words out. "Who…what…how…" Chris's jaw was working soundlessly, and Clark and Leona were staring in shock. Hunding, on the other hand, merely looked at the Daughter grimly. 

"You don't understand who I am, do you?" The Daughter chuckled grimly. "As much as I'd love to let Hunding, the _traitor_"—she favored him with a sneer here—"tell you, I'll save him the trouble. You see, Shermie…I'm you. No, that's not right at all. Actually…you're me." 

"I…I'm you? But how can…?" 

The Daughter hissed in disgust. "Maybe we shouldn't have given you Free Will—it's clearly addled your brains. Since you obviously can't figure it out, I'll tell you. You…are…my…clone." The Daughter spoke the last sentence with condescension dripping off each word. 

"That can't be," Chris mumbled, still in shock from first seeing the Daughter. "You two may look alike, but I already know you're kilometers apart in personality." 

"That's because of two things." As the Daughter enumerated her points, Yashiro renewed his struggles to get out of the air tenma, enraged at the way she was treating Shermie. "One, we had to give her Free Will so she would blend in with the rest of humanity—distasteful, but necessary. Two, almost all of her memories are false. Her existence didn't even begin until about two years ago." 

"_SHUT UP!"_ Yashiro tried to claw at the Daughter, but was thwarted by the tenma. "You promised that the secret would never be revealed! You said that you'd retire from the world permanently after the tournament, and let us live our lives!" 

"Yashiro, the tournament is superfluous now. All promises are cancelled. I already told you all that. How dull has Free Will made _you?_" 

"Secret?…Tournament? Yashiro…you _knew?_" Chris was looking at his friend in disbelief. "Why did you keep this from us?" 

A pained groan directed everyone's attention to Varrius, who had finally regained enough strength to speak. "He had to…the Heavenly Kings are his superiors in…ahh!…the Orochi Alliance…" 

"Will you be quiet?" the Daughter growled. She swiped her arm down on Varrius's head, knocking him prostrate and voiceless. 

"O…ro…chi?" Shermie gazed at Yashiro, her eyes visibly brimming with tears, despite her hair. "Yashiro…why are you helping her?" 

"I'm sorry, Shermie." Yashiro's averted his own gaze so he wouldn't have to see his friend's hurt look. "But it's the only way to purify the world from evil…Orochi has to be rescued from the prison the Shinji Forces trapped Him in…" 

"_ARE YOU CRAZY?_ Orochi's a murderous pseudo-god! Don't you remember Hitomi's book?" Shermie ran towards Yashiro—and rammed into a New Moon Thundercloud for her trouble. Yashiro stared in dismay as she crumpled to the ground. 

"'Pseudo-god'?" The Daughter smirked. "My not-so-dear, ill-prepared clone, humanity is composed of fools, one and all. The pathetic wretches could never hope to understand Orochi's all-encompassing glory and power. Although Yashiro himself has problems understanding what purity is about, at least he knows that Orochi is not a monster at all, but the rightful God of All Realities." 

"Rightful nothing!" Clark roared as he and Leona rushed her. The Daughter simply drew her hand back… 

"_FALL, MORTAL SCUM!"_ She thrust her hand forward, created a massive field of electricity around it, and blasted them back—Leona into Chris, and Clark onto Shermie, with enough impact to leave them all down for a half minute. She looked at the last unfallen warrior. "So, Hunding. This is the last chance I'll give you, although I can't speak for my fellow Kings. Will you return to us, or will you choose to be annihilated with the mortals?" 

"I was never one of you," Hunding hissed. "I never could be. I am glad that I was born a 'throwback' in the direction of ordinary humans, whether because of fate or divine intervention. You will never, _ever_ have my allegiance." 

"Very well, Hunding." The Daughter flipped into the air tenma. "Remember, though, that this world was never meant to be. And those who dare to defy destiny…deserve only annihilation of body and soul." The tenma started to carry the Daughter and a very sad Yashiro away. "If you want to have any further words with either of us, then come to Marstjällik. You should have no problems finding the shrine." 

Hunding watched as the tenma flew away. He only looked away when Varrius managed to grab onto the railing. "Hunding…I think I could use a few potions…not to mention access to the comm system…" 

***** Outskirts of Hallstavik, 8:36 a.m. (again, during the above)***** 

"Any sightings yet?" 

"Unfortunately, no." Onyx's look of absolute annoyance was soon hidden as he put his kabuto and mempo on. "The Marids must be on to us—they made sure those mahou currents lasted two hours, so if they struck anywhere then, we wouldn't have been able to detect them. At least we won't have to blaze a path past the wood elementals Hunding is protecting his compund with. I did a remote scan of the place last night. I found the three Urien was thinking of, but their psychic signatures were too balanced to be actual Marids." He shook his head in self-annoyance. "I can't believe I didn't do the same back in the Amakusa Islands. Anyway, all we know now is that they're somewhere in Sweden. And if we're right, all three are based in one place." 

A thoughtful look formed on Garlon's face. "Hmmm…are you absolutely sure we have to get all three? As I recall, if there are only one or two Marids left, there will be no way for the Orochi Alliance to restore their master." 

Onyx attached his saya to his armor. "Well, we have to destroy at least two. That way, we have insurance in case the Child of Tlaloc, whoever it might be, proves to be a true member of the Alliance. But still, I would feel most comfortable in destroying all three. From what I know, none of them have reproduced yet, so we have a perfect opportunity to extinguish their lines forever." 

"If you're that concerned, I'm amazed you haven't been killing every last Marid you see." 

"I'm not worried about those who owe no allegiance to Orochi himself. They actually have free will, and are therefore useless to the Alliance." Onyx smiled behind his mempo. "Besides, anybody that can attract your affections…well, there's no way she could have such apocalyptic desires." 

Garlon smiled and bowed his head. "I know Vice has your approval, Onyx. You didn't try to kill her after she defeated you." 

"Well, it WAS my fault, what with my being overinsistent that she join us and—" Onyx suddenly stopped speaking, and cocked his head as though trying to hear something distant. Then, he drew his swords, crossed them horizontally, and slowly pivoted. 

"Onyx…?" Garlon watched with fascination as strange energies flowed over his friend's crystalline swords, and the galena runes engraved in the blades pulsed with power. Onyx kept turning until he was facing northwest. Then, he lowered his swords, and turned to Garlon. 

"Well, well, well…we've got one _alone_. The Son of Kali, I think. Twenty-eight kilometers northwest of here." 

"Can we hope that he doesn't know we found him?" 

"At least not because of Urien. Take my wakizashi—it'll attune the Ether Gate to the target location." Garlon accepted the short sword, and began casting the Ether Gate spell that would bring them to where the Son of Kali was. 

***** Somewhere northwest of Hallstavik, 8:39 a.m. ***** 

"Gyah!" Garlon brushed a hand across his forehead as looked about the hills. "This place absolutely STINKS of mahou! Our Marid's here, all right. Ugh…he must have brought a portable shrine, or done a lot of…whatever it is that passes for their kata." 

"And he's keeping himself pretty well hidden, too. He's nearby—my daisho are screaming his presence—but the mahou aura's making it impossible to pinpoint his location, or find any tenma he brought with him." 

While Garlon and Onyx talked, a third figure smiled from nearby, waiting for the thaumaturgist to do what he hoped he would. He silently beckoned to the figure beside him, and instructed it to his desires… 

"Well, nothing else can really be done just yet. Brace yourself, Onyx—I'm going to have to cast an Ether Storm!" 

Onyx quickly planted his katana in the ground and gripped the hilt tightly. Garlon began casting a spell, and as he chanted, a tight cyclone of magical energy formed around him, and began raging. Onyx felt the pull of the Ether Storm while safely anchored by his sword. Meanwhile, their Marid quarry grinned as Edward did what he hoped he would, and his ally began using the storm's pull to its advantage. 

"How long is that storm going to have to—" Onyx stopped talking when he saw something glide from behind a cluster of rock on the mystic winds. It definitely wasn't the Marid—they most certainly were not eight feet tall, and did not resemble metallic, surrealistic mantises… 

"GARLON!! We've got a metal tenma!" Onyx immediately pulled his sword out so he could deal with the monster before it could attack Edward while he was keeping the spell together. The tenma, for its part immediately lashed out at the samurai with its foremost claws, ready to rend his armor into tiny pieces—and him with it. 

Edward stared in dismay as the metal tenma began trying to smash through Onyx's daisho. He quickly shut down the Ether Storm, and rushed forward with his cutlass drawn. Just in time to see his white-haired quarry emerge. The figure's outfit, somewhat like a more sinister, grey-colored version of his own outfit, left no doubt to his identity. 

"Son of Kali," Garlon whispered. He held his cutlass at a ready position. "Are you prepared to fall away from the world you would subvert to a state even I would not accept?" 

"Don't get your hopes up, Free-Willed monstrosity. Once I'm through, your soul will already be awaiting its own annihilation when Orochi reaches the afterlife planes." The Son grinned with anticipation as his hands began to pulse with a dull, steel-colored energy. "And you won't even die here. Given how great a foe to us you've been, I'll let you witness the retu—OOOH!!" The Marid's speech was cut off as Garlon inflicted a shallow slash on his chest. 

"Be silent, Marid. Your insane master is not returning. After all, we'd like to have _something_ to rule." 

The Son of Kali responded with a sneer. "Your sanity is our insanity, and vice versa. We, however, have purity on our side!" He then threw himself into a shoulder charge. 

Garlon was ready. He slid forward while making a powerful horizontal slash with his sword, calling "Shadow Shock!" The Marid grunted with pain as the blade bit into his arm, then found himself smashed to the ground as his foe slid away while slashing downwards. Growling with rage, he leapt into the air with an arm outstretched. He smiled as he saw that Garlon would not have enough time to avoid his grasp. 

"_GOTCHA!_" Garlon found his equilibrium disrupted as the Son's grasp pulled at him. While he was trying to steady himself, the Marid grabbed his side, flipped over him, and finally hurled him into the air. He smirked at the falling swordsman. "Don't challenge our authority. It only makes your destiny that much more painful." 

Edward managed a grin as he got up. "Destiny? What destiny? I guess you didn't hear that destiny doesn't exist!" He leapt forward, bringing his foot and sword's tip to bear on the Orochi's chest. The Son immediately pushed his arm onto Garlon's foot, deflecting the attack. Garlon followed by twisting in midair, then beginning a forward roll as soon as he touched the ground—his Black Swan Attack. 

"Do you EVER quit?" The Son of Kali readied himself for when Garlon would stop his roll. "There's no use resisting us—your destiny was annihilation from your conception." He winced as Garlon quickly flipped out of his roll and slashed downwards onto him from the air. "So ultimately…" He grabbed the rising swordsman about the throat. "…everything you Free-Willed do…" He smashed him into the ground. "…be you good or evil…" The Son spun and slammed Garlon a second time. "…was fated to oblivion…" A third slam. "…myriads in advance!" Garlon found himself being flung from air to ground once more. 

"That's it…" Garlon quickly picked himself up, and raised his sword high into the air. "BUNYIP'S CURSE!!!" Garlon faded from view, leaving the Marid looking around for him. He quickly figured out what had happened when he felt an excruciating pain strike parallel to his spine. Garlon had teleported behind him, planted the entire edge of his cutlass into his back, and used it to suck away a large portion of his ki. The Son of Kali collapsed to the ground, even then healing the long cut created, as Garlon used some of the stolen ki to heal himself. 

"So how about it?" Garlon grinned as he stuck the tip of his sword next to his foe. "Do you give up? Do you recognize the goals of your master to be completely worthless? We will stop attacking if you do." He noticed that the cut he had made was already healed, and whistled in astonishment. "I guess that legend about Kali's lineage being descended from Antaeus was true…we could use someone like you in your ranks. We'll pay the cost of acclimation." 

"You actually believe I'm going to accept that offer?!" The Son attempted a double sweep kick on Garlon, who merely leapt out of the way. "I will never betray Lord Orochi by helping the Free-Willed! Your own taint makes you unworthy to be cured of it!" The Marid did a low jumpkick at Garlon, who moved to the side, and prepared for more battle. 

Meanwhile, Onyx was busily slicing the metal tenma up. While the entity's body was hard enough to break even katana and espadones, Onyx's mystic daisho were another matter entirely. Between the swords' power and Onyx's own agility, not impeded at all by his armor, the tenma was finding it difficult to inflict more than minor damage on the assassin. Therefore, it decided to try a new tactic. 

"Come on, tenma, I've faced _rakshasi_ more powerful than you, and lived to tell the tale." The tenma appeared to become angrier, even as it prepared its new plan. "Your poor master is about to die the—uh-oh." Onyx rolled to his left as one of the tenma's claws suddenly extended into a very thin, very long, and very sharp spike—sharp enough to pierce his armor like a sponge—and lanced through the air where he had been standing. In half a second, the spike had been extended, and retracted. "I was wondering when you'd do that. Unfortunately for you, I have a way to deal with this sort of thing." Onyx raised his katana as the tenma prepared to strike again. "Good night…_JIGOKU YOKAZE!!"_ Onyx slashed down quickly into the air, and in the process created a few faint wisps of white ki where the tenma was. He jumped out of the way of the next spike immediately afterwards. The monster had just enough time to notice the wisps after recovering from its attack before they transformed into a large unholy rune, which blasted it away, and caused it to land in a tangle of metallic limbs. As it righted itself, Onyx rushed it with an aerial, swords-first drill, crying "Oni Kaze!" The tenma did its best to get its limbs into some semblance of a shield, but still failed to avoid most of the attack's cuts. As the last cut hit, the tenma collapsed into metal fragments and limbs, its structural integrity completely destroyed. 

"Say hello to the scrap heap, tenma." His eyes glowing with triumph, Onyx walked away from his destroyed foe and looked to where Garlon and the Son of Kali were fighting. From what he could tell, the two were fairly evenly matched, but the Son was starting to wilt, especially given the very recent Spirit Shock and Bunyip's Talon he had received. "I think your master will be joining—" Onyx froze as he saw the tenma's remains quaver, then point a single limb in the general direction of Garlon…a single, glowing limb…_Oh, no…_"GARLON!!" 

Garlon looked at Onyx as he finished a hilt smash to put the Son back down. "What's going on?" 

Onyx was already running towards the tenma, katana ready to slash. "JUST GET OUT—" 

Onyx's warning was cut off by the sudden discharge of energy from the tenma's limb—the energy from Onyx's own swords that had not radiated out of the tenma's body by then. The beam took only a few microseconds to hit Garlon, giving him no time whatsoever to evade it, and no time for Onyx to attack the limb. With a strangled cry, Garlon collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground. An instant later, the limb fell down for the last time, disintegrating into tiny fragments. 

_"Edward!!"_ Onyx ran up to his fallen comrade and checked his pulse. "Edward, wake up! You're too important to our cause to die—" 

"GO AWAY!!" 

Onyx found himself hurtled back several meters by the point-blank Hoeru Daichi. When he got back up, he saw the Son of Kali holding Garlon up with his right hand, and using his left hand to keep the cutlass's edge at the assassin's throat. "You attack, he dies." 

Onyx tensed, ready to attack the instant the Son let go of either Garlon or the cutlass. "So what will it take to keep him alive?" 

The Son laughed grimly at Onyx. "Oh, I'd say a trade could work wonders here. How about this: I keep your friend here alive, and you give me…oh…how about your daisho?" 

"My…daisho?" Onyx glared at the Marid. "You know how important they are to me. Find another trade medium." 

"There isn't one." The Son pressed the cutlass a little further against Garlon's throat. "That's all I'll accept. I don't get the daisho, Garlon finds out _exactly_ how sharp his sword is. So, which is more important to you?" 

Onyx fumed inwardly, hating the deal he was given. _I don't want to think about what he wants to do with my daisho…and yet, Edward's life is on the line. I don't know if he'd appreciate being saved at the cost of our cause…_the frown beneath his mempo, however, became a smile. _But, perhaps I can save Edward's life, and still get my daisho back. My o-yoroi can tell me where the daisho are if I'm not actually wearing or wielding them. Once I sense where the daisho have been taken, I can call up Sukune and Wadi'a so we can raid the Marids' base, get my daisho back, and finally bomb the Orochi Alliance into oblivion…_

"Very well, Son of Kali, it's a deal. You'll have my daisho. You will, of course, have the saya, too, so you can actually handle them without roasting your less-than-worthy hands." Onyx sheathed his daisho, untied the saya from his o-yoroi, and laid them on the ground. "Now, let go of Garlon." 

"Done." The Son dropped the assassin and sword unceremoniously, then darted forward and grabbed the saya. He grinned at his prize, even as the sheathed daisho pulsated furiously at being held by a Marid. "Thank you so _very_ much for your cooperation." 

"Don't mention it…again." _Especially since _I _should be thanking _YOU _for leading us to your base._ Onyx hoisted Garlon over his left shoulder, and held the cutlass in a ready position in his right hand. "Now, please leave now. We'll be stuck here until either Garlon wakes up or some of our comrades show up with transportation." 

The smile on the Son's face started to unsettle Onyx. "Actually, that's not going to be a problem in the least." 

"What are you talking about…?" Onyx's question trailed off as the air suddenly turned into a windstorm, then turned into a screech of shock as he and Garlon were swept up into a tornado—or rather, an air tenma. "What kind of treachery is this?" 

"No treachery. All we agreed to was that if you gave me your daisho, I wouldn't kill Garlon. I never said anything about not taking you two prisoner." 

"Errgghh…I can't believe I was so short-sighted…" Onyx did not get the chance to say any more, as the air tenma threw him out of itself with enough power to, despite his kabuto, render him unconscious when he hit the ground. 

The Son of Kali sneered as the tenma picked him and his unconscious foes up. "And you call yourself the Dark Disciple of Air…" 

***** Northern Sicily, Rose's compound, 8:45 a.m. ***** 

"Well, everyone's accounted for…except Mai, that is." Siobhan shot a glare towards Mai's quarters. "Of all the days for her to sleep in, she chooses a tournament practice day!" 

Dudley was taking an opportunity to look at the cookbook Siobhan was using. "Actually, from the looks of this recipe, the smell of breakfast should get her up." 

"Just promise me you won't try to help," King muttered. "One English cook matches many cooks…the ones who spoi—" 

"{AHEM} " 

"Lay off of him, King. He is not to blame," Siobhan said as she measured a cup of milk, "for the lack of imagination his culinary forbears had. Besides, quite a few of the recipes do fine. Like I said, not much imagination, but certainly not poison." 

"Siobhan, I thought you knew that English cuisine _is_ poison for French tongues." 

"Hmmm…Dudley, why don't you take over for a while?" 

Dudley caught the evil grin she was giving King. "With pleasure, miss. It's been a while since I've had the opportunity, so I'll be happy to get back into practice." 

Siobhan untied her apron and handed it to him, then sat next to a somewhat nervous-looking King, adjusting the clasp of her cloak as she did so. "Please, King. If you're going to build up resistance to a toxin, you've got to sample the toxin first." King looked even more worried. "King, this isn't cowbane we're talking about…" 

During all this, Rose was looking on with bemusement, and Andy was trying desperately to keep from laughing. "Until two days ago, I'd last seen Siobhan when she was a little child," Rose said to Andy. "Tell me, is she always like this with her friends?" 

"Not really, just King and Mai. She usually needles Mai over her taste in music and clothes—unsuccessfully. With King, it's more like two women making light of each other's culturedness." 

"If I have to eat an Englishman's cooking," King grumbled, "I'll be cultured all right—like a yogurt." 

"Hmmm…what?" A sleepy-eyed Mai finally appeared at the kitchen's doorway. "Did you two start engaging in the high-class wars _again?_" 

Siobhan looked over her shoulder. "About time our future daimyo showed up…" Her voice trailed off when she noticed Mai's attire—a tank top and shorts. "And with as little fashion sense as usual. Mai, it isn't _that_ warm outside." 

"Guess again. I heard the radio forecast. If I heard it right, we've got a halcyon day today." 

"Mai, halcyon days are in autumn, not winter. Besides which—" 

Siobhan was interrupted by an insistent ringing from elsewhere in the compound. Rose immediately perked up. "It sounds like I've got a call. If you'll excuse me…" She left the kitchen, and reappeared half a minute later. "Dudley, I need you over here, too." 

Dudley raised an eyebrow. "I see. I guess you'll be finishing the cooking, after all, Siobhan." He untied the apron and handed it back to her. 

King whooped in joy. "I'm saved!" 

As Dudley and Rose left the kitchen, Siobhan growled "Fine. Dudley's still cooking dinner." 

"What is this about, Rose?" Dudley asked. 

"Our caller is a friend of yours and mine—" 

"Varrius? He's calling here?" 

"Yes, I am, my friend." Dudley swiveled to see the vidscreen displaying a rather damaged Varrius. "I hate to say it, but it's pretty urgent that I call in your favor as well as get Rose's help." 

Dudley frowned. "What happened to you, old chap? Someone thrashed you rather well." 

"What happened was an Orochi V.I.P. It's imperative that we get all the help we can to stop her and her friends. Let's just say that Gill and I both want them out of the way—how can you save a world that no longer exists?" 

"The…the Orochi Alliance?" Rose began to look pale. "But…I thought you said they were planning to attack the tournament—" 

"The Daughter of Kingu said that the tournament became superfluous. I don't know about you, but that tells me they found a way to step up their timetable. I've contacted Kagura Chizuru, and she's already rounding up Kusanagi Kyo and Yagami Iori. You're the only other two I can really rely upon for help—as much as I'd like Gill to send in Necro and Twelve, they're kind of busy on other assignments. They'd never reach Marstjällik in time. As it is, there are already two hostages at the shrine. So I ask of you, will you help us?" 

Dudley frown became deeper. "Two hostages, you say? I'll be glad to help you rescue them, and maybe teach this 'Orochi Alliance' a few lessons in ethical conduct." 

"I will join you also, Varrius. You may have joined an enemy, but I know that your particular purposes are not antagonistic to us at all." A gentle smile formed on Rose's face. "I think we can convince the other fighters here to help as well." 

Varrius blinked a few times. "Other fighters?" 

"Yes. Shiranui Mai, Andy Bogard, Siobhan Conaghan, and King all came here with Dudley to practice for the coming KOF tournament. They are certain to want to help put the Orochi down again." 

"Excellent, excellent!" Glee shone on Varrius's face. "That will bring the warrior count on our side to fifteen! We'll enjoy an almost five-to-one advantage, assuming the tenma are leaving the shrine alone—which they always do. Thank you, thank you!" Varrius could be seen inputting commands into a keyboard. "I've just sent a Wyvern gunship to pick you up. It'll get to your compound in thirty minutes. From there, another thirty minutes to reach Marstjällik. My party will rendezvous with you there. Varrius Cicolini out!" 

As the vidscreen winked off, Dudley and Rose looked at each other. "Well, " Rose said, "it looks like our practice session just picked up in importance. We'd better tell the others right away." The two warriors rushed back to the kitchen, where Siobhan was just starting to cook the first set of pancakes. 

"Well, you two look tense," King noted. "Was the message _that_ troubling?" 

"I'm afraid so. My friends," Rose began, "I have received word that the remaining Heavenly Kings are trying to restore the Orochi entity at Marstjällik, in Sweden." 

All four warriors stared at her in silence. Siobhan was the first to break the silence. "Well," she muttered, "I guess that means we're going to be practicing with live targets…" 

"I take it that means you've already decided to help?" 

"You'd better believe it, Dudley. Not just because I don't pass up opportunities to rescue humanity, but also because I've been waiting for an opportunity to fight a supernatural force like the Alliance." 

"Still want to re-enact Shirasu's fight with Ambrosia, hm?" Mai grinned at her friend, but the smile dissolved into seriousness when she turned to Rose and Dudley. "There's no way I'm _not_ going to help put the kibosh on an evil cult. I know I can do this—I've survived Isawa Yasuhiro, for crying out loud! Count me in!" 

"That's two," Dudley said. "Anyone else?" 

Andy was the next to speak. "I, too, will not let ones as evil as the Orochi Alliance prosper. Besides which, I will not abandon my fellows from the Clan where deadly battle is concerned, especially not my fiancée—" 

"THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!!!" Mai squealed as she leapt out of her chair and embraced Andy—and nearly knocked him over, much to the amusement of Siobhan and King. 

Andy managed to loosen Mai's arms enough to avoid risk of suffocation. "As I was saying, I'll go to Marstjällik also. Um, Mai…you can let go now." 

"No clan, here, but I've certainly got friends. Besides, I didn't get to have any kind of talk with Goenitz. His fellow lunatics should make for a good replacement." King rested her elbow on Mai's shoulder, the owner of which was still locking Andy in a bear hug. "As you can see, no one is abandoning this job." 

Rose smiled, and looked towards where Marstjällik would be. "Very well, then. Our transport has been promised in thirty minutes. All of you who haven't already should change into your fighting outfits. Remember, thirty minutes!" 

Siobhan chuckled quietly as Andy, Mai, and King raced off. "I guess it's a good thing I'm already in my outfit. I guess we'll be having breakfast on the transport. Although with more fruit than pancakes." 

***** 4:50 p.m., café in Osaka (8:50 a.m. in Sweden) ***** 

_Magatama…who came up with that name, anyway?_

Yagami Iori scowled at the tiny wisp of violet flame in his palm. He knew perfectly well that what he hated was not the ability to use fire, but the kind of fire he had to wield. A fire that could potentially bind him, without warning, to the whims of the Orochi entity. Kyo, on the other hand…he could use his powers freely. 

And as far as Iori was concerned, he had still done nothing to earn that blessing. 

Meanwhile, Iori had suffered, both under his tainted power and his domineering father, to a degree nearly noone could possibly have known. And still, he had not been compensated… 

_Magatama, indeed…_

The arts shared by the Kusanagi and the Yasakani actually never had a proper name. The name "Magatama" had been coined by the early Kusanagi, before Hiroto's Betrayal. Before the Kusanagi even started using the power of fire. At first, the Yasakani used strictly fire arts, the Kusanagi strictly swordsmanship. The Yasakani were unusual among the warrior clans of first millenium Japan in that they refused to rely on any boon other than their arts. They would not even wear magatama beads—the traditional talismans of fortune—except as decoration. The Kusanagi, having a friendly rivalry with the Yasakani then, could get away with joking that the other clan did indeed use magatama—they were just inside the warrior, and made of fire. The nickname stuck, even after the Betrayal. 

For Kyo, the arts indeed seemed to be like magatama. For Iori, though, they seemed to be the reverse. Especially the Ya Otome. 

_Maybe, instead of killing Kyo immediately, I should inflict HIM with the knowledge of the Ya Otome…if there were any way of doing it…but he DESERVES to know what my pain is, dammit! For what we have had to experience, we each deserve the other's fate…_

"Iori…?" 

Iori did not look up, as was usual for him. "Yes, Chizuru?" 

"Iori, we have to leave. For Hallstavik." 

_Hallstavik? In Sweden?_ "Why should I?" 

"The Orochi may be about to emerge from its prison. Apparently, it will re-enter our world at Marstjällik. We'll be needed to contain it again." 

_Contain?…That means….I CAN GET SOME REVENGE ON OROCHI!_ "I'm listening." 

"I suppose that's a first for you." 

Iori felt a rush of blood and tainted ki as he heard…_that_ voice. He whipped his head around to see… 

"Kyo…" Iori bent his hands into claws. "Don't tell me Chizuru thinks _you_ will be of any use here…" 

"Iori, Iori, Iori…" Kyo shook his head in dismay. "Can you for once forget about killing me? We've got something important to do, as—" 

"I know it's more important than killing you! Orochi's one of the only two things I hate more than you. That's why I'm willing to help Chizuru. Right now, you're of no consequence. So begone!" 

"Much as I'd love to leave, Iori, that ain't possible. Remember, if Orochi is going to get the boot, all three of us are necessary—Kusanagi to defeat, Yata to seal, Yasakani to dispel. In other words, if one of us is not there and something gets screwed up, we're going to be Demon Chow, no questions asked. So get in gear and come on!" 

"Very well…how long do I have to suffer your presence on the plane?" 

"We won't be using a plane," Chizuru said. "I can teleport us straight to Hallstavik. We'll be flying to Marstjällik by gunship from there." 

"Good. The less I have to suffer Kyo-kisama's presence, the better." 

"So, let's go!" Kyo shouted, and ran along the street. As the others followed, Iori felt a kind of giddiness flow through him… 

_No mahoutsukai, no mercenaries, no spies…just Orochi and its agents…_

_…Orochi, this has been twenty-four years in the making. My hate toward you will bring your so-called purity to its knees…_

***** Marstjällik, 8:54 a.m. ***** 

Yashiro was miserable. 

No friends, no beautiful scenery, no music. 

Nothing but a bleak mountainscape, an even bleaker shrine, and two of his hated superiors, the Son of Moloch and the Daughter of Kingu. The shrine was so holy that only Heavenly Kings could be there willingly. Tenma took off for the elemental planes as soon as they finished their business at the shrine. 

Right now, the two Heavenly Kings were deep in prayer to Orochi, asking Him to give them the strength they would need to resummon Him to Earth, and purify it utterly. They were kneeling beside a well on the shrine's lower level, a beige, circular, stone platform surrounded by pillars with no ceiling. At the mountain side of the shrine, two curved stairwells led to the shrine's upper level, where Yashiro was standing, and Ralf was bound. In ceremonies, the upper level was reserved for sacrifices to Orochi. 

Yashiro shuddered at the thought of what the zealots infesting his religion had done on that level in the past centuries. _There's another good reason for rescuing Orochi early—we won't have to sacrifice the last Kushinada. In fact…noone may have to die…although if those three Hellish Kings die, I won't be too disappointed…_

Yashiro looked at Ralf. He was still unconscious, and would probably still be so for quite a while. It looked like the boredom wasn't going to be alleviated for a while. 

A swish of air alerted Yashiro to the arrival of the third King. The Son of Kali. 

Yashiro's original. 

As the air tenma flew to the shrine, Yashiro saw that the Son wasn't the only passenger. Inside, there were two other figures. Yashiro recognized them instantly from the descriptions the Kings had given him. The Onyx Samurai, and Edward Gargrave. 

Yashiro laughed to himself. For all their vaunted power, the Kings didn't know everything. They still didn't know who the second high power beside Isawa Yasuhiro in the Seishukuu Tourou was. They didn't know Onyx's real identity. While Yashiro didn't know either, he felt comfort in knowing that his superiors definitely weren't perfect. He watched as the Son of Kali leapt out of the tenma, carrying a set of sheathed daisho. Yashiro's heartbeat quickened as he realized they were the Onyx Samurai's daisho. The tenma then spit out the two unconscious assassins, and immediately teleported back to its origin, the Plane of Air. The Son of Kali looked up, and immediately saw Yashiro. 

"Okay, Yashiro, make yourself useful. Take these two mortals and put them into a couple of prison panels, like Ralf. I've got a pair of swords to ready." 

Yashiro nodded—he knew from experience that it was fruitless to argue with his original. As he hefted Onyx onto his shoulders and carried him up the stairwell, he saw the other two Kings rise up. 

"You have them," the Daughter of Kingu breathed. 

"Lord Orochi, we are most grateful for the honor You have seen fit to give us," the Son of Moloch intoned. 

The Son of Kali walked up to the well, and held the daisho out before him. By now, Yashiro had put Onyx's back to a prison panel. As they contacted, energy bands sprang to life around Onyx's torso and arms. Yashiro descended again to carry Garlon up. Just before the Australian was taken up, the Son of Kali began his speech, holding the daisho towards the well, hilts first. 

"Great Orochi, Lord of All Purity, Rightful Heir of All Realities, behold Your most humble servants. All we ask of You is that You honor our presence by returning to this world in our midst, taking our blood and flesh and binding them to Your will…" 

_Taking our blood and flesh and…?_ Yashiro grimaced as he bound Garlon. _GREAT choice of words. I wonder if that means Orochi will be reforming you from within…I know **I** wouldn't complain if that happened to you…_

"…behold now the new catalyst for Your return. Accept our aid, that You may bring Your glorious form to this unworthy world, and scour it of all chaos, entropy, and corruption. Let this greatest of Your shrines, the Well of the Pleroma, give us a sign of Your approval or disapproval." With that, the Son of Kali tilted the saya so the daisho fell into the well. As soon as the katana's tip cleared the well's edge, the well flared with a pale blue light, which became a clear geyser that lanced straight to the clouds. The swords became suspended in the beam, and drifted up, stopping when they were about two meters above the lower level of the shrine. 

The Heavenly Kings' faces were exultant. "Lord Orochi has given His blessing!" the Daughter of Kingu cried. "He will return when the first wave of His foes comes!" 

"All blessings and glory to Orochi!" said the Son of Moloch. "Yea, I shall gladly surrender myself to His purpose, in the name of the one true purity!" 

As Yashiro watched, he felt a dreadful forbodeing in his stomach. _Lord Orochi…please, I beg You…come, but do not fulfil the rest of these zealots' wishes, even though they have enabled Your return so early…_

_Do not destroy humanity…_   
  


End Part Two.   



	3. Calling the Storm

Dark Crescendo   
Chapter Three:   
Calling the Storm 

All relevant copyright information is on Chapter One. 

***** Sicily, Rose's compound, 9:14 a.m. ***** 

"Siobhan, Andy...does she _always_ fight in...that?" 

"Alas and alack, yes. And in this case, not because she was expecting the weather to warm up later today." Siobhan was looking towards Mai, now in her usual battle uniform, with resignation, as was Andy. Dudley, on the other hand, had an expression closer to distaste. Mai was responding with a quizzical look. "I've been trying for several years to get her to adopt something more practical. And, as usual, she only adopts something worthwhile for stealth missions. Whenever she wears that oddity and we object, she keeps saying something about 'freedom of movement'." Siobhan gestured at her own outfit, which covered her entire body except her head. "I think I've got plenty of movement potential with this, though. I still haven't decided what the other factor with Mai is--hedonism, vanity, rebellion, something..." 

"Pride, maybe?" Mai chirped. 

"Enough blades," Siobhan grumbled, "and the pride's going to turn to embarrasment. Remember that when we finally find Garlon and Onyx, will you?" 

"Siobhan, their swords won't get anywhere near my outfit." Mai's voice had suddenly turned quiet, and her face was expressionless. "They'll be dead before they can even unsheathe them." 

"No, no, no, Mai. I know how much you hate those two--Andrew and I share the same feelings, remember--but that's not going to guarantee success. They've managed to kill in combat some fighters that would wipe out the three of us combined! Garlon came close to killing _Gill_, and he's easily Mars-caliber." 

"I don't care..." Mai whispered. "For the murder of Yousai...for the _way_ they murdered Yousai...I will do what I must..." 

Concern had by now materialized on Dudley's face. "Siobhan, I don't mean to intrude on anything personal--" 

"I think we can guess what you're talking about." Andy shook his head sadly. "Garlon and the Onyx Samurai are a pair of assassins, the former specializing in poisons. And he includes allergies in his expertise. Just after I left the Shiranui-jo to find Geese Howard in Southtown, Garlon and Onyx evidently received a commission to kill Yousai­we thought Isawa Yasuhiro commissioned them at first, but we're not so sure anymore. We don't know how he did it, but Onyx enabled Garlon's entry into the Shiranui-jo, and Garlon..." Andy's face darkened with anger at the memory. "He knew that Yousai was violently allergic to thyme. So he put a quantity of thyme oil into as many foodstuffs as he could. It was enough to ensure that Yousai died that evening...as his throat swelled to suffocate him." 

Dudley's mind churned with shock. To be killed in such a horrible, ignominious way..."Yousai was someone close to her, then?" 

"Yeah. Her twin brother. Her younger brother, Katsuda, didn't take it well either. He became a bounty hunter as soon as he heard about Yousai's death. His real purpose is to find and capture Onyx and Garlon, but he hasn't succeeded yet..." 

Dudley looked at Mai's face as she talked with Siobhan. He could not understand what they were saying, since they were speaking in Gaelic--from what King had told him, Siobhan had taught Andy and Mai the language during their shinobi training--but the weird calm on Mai's face spoke volumes. _She's still grieving for Yousai...and it won't end until his killers are brought to justice..._

_I think I'd end up feeling like that if one of my siblings were murdered so foully...but not by so much. Being the eldest of my family, there was a time when I had no siblings. But until his death, Yousai and Mai would have been constant companions..._

A distant whirr became audible from the southwest during this time. The four fighters looked in that direction automatically, although Dudley immediately knew what it was. The whirr grew louder as its source quickly closed the gap, and began to descend through the overcast sky... 

"_That's_ our transport to Marstjällik?!" Mai's eyes had widened with shock. Andy and Siobhan, too, were startled, although they were doing an admirable job of keeping their responses contained. They barely noticed King and Rose rushing outside, and the former also gawking at the Wyvern. "That thing's the size of a destroyer!" 

Indeed, the Wyvern gunship was much larger than any helicopter had a right to be. Even with its vertical rotor and three horizontal rotors, situated right, left, and center, the enormous chopper did not look like it should have been capable of extended flight. In less than a minute, the vehicle had come to hover within a few feet of the ground, and gone into whisper mode. 

"It would appear our flight to Sweden is here." Dudley walked up to the Wyvern, which almost on cue released a rope ladder. "Shall we?" 

Siobhan finally managed to get over her shock at the Wyvern's sheer size and power. "Let's go," she said as she beckoned towards the others with her hand and rushed to the ladder. "All aboard for the Anti-Orochi Express!" 

***** Thien Mansion, grand hall, 9:15 a.m. ***** 

"_Those_ two are supposed to help us?!" 

"Yeah, Iori. You got a problem with that?" 

Iori stared balefully at Kyo. "I've seen their records in the minor tournaments they've fought in, and their techniques. The only reason they did so well was the absolutely _pathetic_ skill level of everyone else. **_HIBIKI DAN _**could have done away with them without effort!" 

Chris glared at Iori as he insulted him and Shermie. Apparently, Iori was less than pleased with having to fight alongside any kind of rival, whether martial--like Kyo, or artistic--like Shermie. Fortunately, Shermie had not been paying attention to him, since she was still reeling from the revelation of her true nature by the Daughter of Kingu. 

Leona and Chris were busy trying to get Shermie out of her shock, with no success whatsoever. Shermie was staring at her open palms, her eyes--when they could be seen--blasted with horror. "Yashiro…why?…who are we?" 

Sighing, Leona turned away and shook her head. "I'm getting nowhere with her," she grumbled. "The way she is, you'd think someone had just murdered everyone she knew, _and_ injected her with a slow poison." She turned back, this time to Chris, her eyes pleading. "Can't you do anything about her? No offense, but her dolor is hounding _me._" _Especially since she's reminding me of when Goenitz decided to tell me who I was…the "rightful" Daughter of Hecate…_

_It's kind of ironic...the whole reason I thought I could bring her around was because we both seem to be ready and waiting tools for Orochi...and want no part of that..._

Chris said nothing as he looked around. Hunding and Clark had gone off into the mansion's depths for who-knew-what weapons for a search party, the recently revived Varrius was talking with Chizuru, and Kyo and Iori were busy insulting each other. _I think that mirror gate Chizuru...I think that's what her name is...and Varrius created did something to their heads, or at least Iori's. He isn't usually **this** talkative, even when he's badmouthing someone._

"I...I have no idea, Miss Heidern." Chris clutched at his wrists. "Right now, I want to know what Yashiro was doing with Shermie's so-called original." Tears began to form at his eyes, which were looking at nothing in particular. "Why did he betray us like this? I know he thinks he's protecting the world, but...why?" 

Leona's heart tightened as she watched Chris fold into his misery. This was only the second time she had seen him, and already she felt a profound empathy for him. Maybe because the first time around, he had been distressed also, just with abject terror, not horror and sorrow. 

She shook her head sadly. She had the grim feeling that this boy's life was going to be ravaged for a long time by Orochi's influence on his friends... 

"Come on, Chizuru, admit it." Varrius smiled at the Kagura as he played with a few wisps of light on his fingers. "You're eager to have a chance to cream Orochi's agents this early. Somehow, I know helping Iori and those two Jinns squash Goenitz wasn't enough for you. I _know_ a battle-pledged when I see one." 

Chizuru raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. "I hope that's not how you facilitated the mirror gate." 

"Now, don't take it too seriously, my dear. I mean, don't you have enough problems keeping those two kids from killing each other?" Varrius concentrated a bit more on the wisps, finally getting them to form a free-spinning pentagonal pyramid. "Keeping my heart a little light is how I manage to put up with my _most_ demanding superior. You...let's see...you've got the Kyo/Iori summits, one or two well-hidden secrets...at least what that last one entails will keep you busy even if Orochi gets killed. The Seishukuu Tourou alone..." 

Chizuru blinked a few times, trying to recover. "You...you know about my family's...?" she gasped. 

The pyramid blinked out of existence. "Chizuru, given my position, and my past history, how am I _not_ going to know? That history's how I knew I could trust in you and anybody you brought. Not just because we represent _somewhat_ like-minded corporate giants, or that you're a Yata." 

"..." Chizuru, for once, was discomfited. 

"Okay, people, listen up." Everyone, even Iori and Shermie, turned to Clark, who had entered the hall with a small cloth satchel, out of which a few strangely colored ribbons were emerging. "Mr. Thien's prepared a Wyvern-class helicopter--which he says gives new meaning to the word 'gunship'--to get us to Marstjällik. En route, we'll be meeting another Wyvern, this one coming from Sicily. I believe you requisitioned that one, Mr. Cicolini?" 

"Um, yes." Varrius nodded towards Clark. "I was originally calling up one of my old comrades-in-arms. As it turns out, I ended up getting five other warriors in the bargain, one of whom owes me a favor anyway. Anyway, we'll need to meet up with that second gunship before we actually reach Marstjällik. The skies there will be swarming with tenma, most likely, so the second gunship will need to be pretty close to us to benefit from the Orochi repellent Mr. Steel has with him." 

Iori glared at the ward satchel. It did not look particularly innocuous to him, and he had a pretty good idea why..."And how am I supposed to get on the Wyvern if the wards are there?" 

"Wellll...they wouldn't hurt a partial-blood like you. You'd have to be fully bound to repel you. In other words, either a true and faithful Marid, or a tenma. They will sting if you actually touch them, Iori, but that's it." 

"What...what about...?" Shermie's still-present shock prevented her from getting more out. 

"I don't know...this is the first time we've had to deal with a clone of a Marid. But I'm pretty confident that you can board the Wyvern with no trouble." 

"O...okay." Shermie sniffled, and resumed staring at the ground. "I...I just want to find out what happened..." 

Varrius sighed quietly. Shermie's depression was starting to get to him. _She'd better not be like this when we reach Marstjällik._

Clark lifted one of the ribbons out of the bag, revealing the opal magatama attached to one end. "What do we do, just tie these wherever we can?" He looked into the bag. "Wait a minute...are you sure five wards are enough to protect one, let alone two, Wyverns?" 

Varrius shrugged. "They'll work fine if you keep them separate. If not for the fact he gets nauseous around them, Hunding would be protecting the compound with those, rather than relying on just the elementals. Anyway, once they're separated, and tied to the gunship--yes, inside will do fine--the aura they project will be so wide, both choppers will be protected, as long as we're at minimum safety proximity." 

"Hm." Clark dropped the ward back into the satchel. "Are we going to carry these into Ralf's prison, too?" 

"I doubt they'd work there," Chizuru said. "My family has researched long and hard into the nature of the Orochi force. I can tell you that if you're in one of the Marids' shrines, no ward can possibly repel one of them or a tenma. The wards will prevent tenma from bringing us down in flames en route, but that's all." 

"No matter." Iori had raised his clenched fist a bit, which was already radiating violet fire. "As soon as the Marids draw my attention, I'll burn them so well, you wouldn't be able to fill a thimble with their ashes. I've been waiting to get my revenge for six months. NO ONE makes me lose control and--" 

The sound of slow clapping interrupted Iori and darkened his mood further. "Nice to see you've kept your priorities straight for this long, Iori," Kyo smirked. "Maybe I should look into keeping a Marid alive for you to beat up on, instead of you trying to beat _me_ up." 

Iori wheeled on Kyo. "As I recall, my team managed to defeat yours last year!" He was totally unaware of the fact that most of the others were now more concerned with asking Clark and Varrius more questions on the mission's logistics. Only Chris was still listening. Somehow, he was fascinated by these two. 

"Yeah, but I still knocked you clear from fresh to knockout. I'll admit you derailed Benimaru, and pounded me enough for Vice to beat me...but that's it." 

Iori quaked with anger at the memory of still being beaten by Kyo, unintentionally causing tendrils of fire to wave on his fingertips. Chris looked at the tendrils, interested in their independent motion. _In their own way, they're pretty...I wonder if Kyo or Hunding could make fire dance like th--_

Chris stiffened and paled, as he remembered something Varrius had said...   
'...If not for the fact he gets nauseous around them, Hunding would be protecting the compound with those...' 

Varrius had been talking about the wards. The anti-_Orochi_ wards. 

If they could sting Iori, who had a relatively weak level of Orochi taint...why would Hunding get _nauseous_ around the wards...unless... 

_No...no..._

Chris ran for where he had seen Hunding go just after Chizuru and her retinue had arrived. If he was right... 

More reminders came to mind...A dim awareness of the Daughter of Kingu trying to get Hunding to join her...calling him a "traitor"...and the words Hunding had used...he could never be one of 'them', _despite his origin..._

_...we're kin...and Clark mistook me for the "Son of Moloch"...it can't be...I can't have Shermie's problem, too!..._

Chris finally found the room Hunding had mentioned the day before as being the "artefact repository"--where he kept all his magical items. Only now did Chris get an idea of its grandeur. The room was entirely panelled in walnut, with racks of magical weapons, armor, and staves occupying every interwindow space. Several closets promised more unusual talismans. The far wall was occupied by some sort of shrine... 

...where Hunding was standing, tightening the ties of a simple, black cloth cloak. A silver chain with a plain disk was around his neck, and a longsword and his wand were at his waist. He had put on a tunic and trousers, both dull red. He noticed Chris's entry, and turned to see him more clearly... 

_Isee..._Hunding exhaled a sigh. _He's worked it out, most likely._ "Chris...Are you here because of...our nature?" Chris nodded mutely. Hunding closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, but...we didn't think it was a good idea to reveal your true nature. We were worried about how Yashiro would react if we did so. Our decision was to confront Yashiro first, and decide again whether or not to tell you afterwards." 

"Uncle...I...I'm not angry at you about that." A hundredth of a smile formed on Chris's downturned face. "What reason would we have had to believe you? But...what the Daughter of Kingu asked you..." As he looked up, Chris's face became one of pleading. "Uncle...you were once an Orochi?" 

Hunding sank down a little, resting his hand on the shrine. "Yes...that's how I was born. But occasionally, a Marid is born without his mind totally in Orochi's thrall. I was just such a child. After it became clear to my parents that I could not be 'saved', I was abandoned during an attack on a psionicist enclave in Cyprus. They didn't know that some of those psionicists would rescue me, and help me keep my Marid nature from ever surging up." He turned his gaze to the two figures on the shrine. One was of a huge Japanese man with unruly white hair, wielding a no-dachi in his crossed arms. The other was of a red-haired boy, not much older than Chris, it seemed, armed with both a sword and...an umbrella? "I've been rescuing 'imperfect' and renegade Marids--or, as my non-beloved kin call them, Jinns--ever since. To that end, I studied sorcery, and began to develop spells to imitate my kin's powers. In fact, those powers I used against you last night...those are in imitation of your original's abilities." 

"My...original's?" Alarm started to form on Chris's face. "Then...were the assassins--" 

"No. The assassins were sent by someone who wants to see your originals dead. He just mistook you for them." Hunding returned his gaze to Chris. "Regardless of what Urien had in mind for you, our real threats are now the Heavenly Kings. Knowing Varrius, he assumed you and Shermie would accompany him and the others...but I will not make the same assumption." He took a deep breath, then looked Chris in the eye. "Chris...are you willing to come with us to Marstjällik? I do not doubt that your originals are ready to fight...and if they are, they will certainly seek a fight to the death." 

As Hunding waited for a response, Chris wrapped his arms about himself and shivered, trying to figure out what to do. _This sounds like it's going to be **much** worse than the Amakusa Islands incident. I only had one enemy there, now I'll have probably three to deal with--four if Yashiro fights with them..._

_...but I doubt he will._ Chris uncrossed his arms as a calm filled him. _He definitely wasn't agreeing with the Daughter of Kingu. Between Yashiro's misery from the Daughter's actions, and her callousness, there's only one conclusion I can think of._

_He's a prisoner of the Kings, like Clark's friend, but also in some parts of their beliefs. And if we don't rescue him from his error, how will we ever learn the entire truth?_

_Besides, I'm hardly going to be the only one there..._

"I'll...I'll go with you. It's the only way I'll ever learn everything about my origins..." He held back a shudder. "...horrific as they are." 

"Chris...don't worry." Hunding knelt a little and put his arm on Chris's shoulder. "Varrius and I are convinced that despite the way you were created, you won't suffer the same malevolent impulses your originals do...at least, not because of your origins. Your 'taint'--if it can even be called that--is so slight that you are essentially normal human beings, your martial arts notwithstanding. More importantly, you have the free will that the Marids hate so much. You really have nothing to fear." 

"Thank you, Uncle..." Chris was silent for a few moments, then became rigid. "Wait. What did you mean by a taint?" 

Hunding winced. _I guess I don't have a choice in this._ "As far as Varrius and I can tell, you, Yashiro, and Shermie were created as a kind of ki conductor. Anything with the Orochi trace--even the small amount you have--absorbs radiant ki naturally. The Heavenly Kings need a lot of ki to break the Shinji seal that holds Orochi in its prison. The KOF tournament would be their best opportunity to get the ki, but they couldn't attend in person, lest they be detected by anyone or anything sensitive to Orochi presence--a Kusanagi, a Yasakani, a Yata, a Satsui, et cetera. Therefore..." A final sigh. "...they must have created you three specifically to soak up the ki, without setting off anyone's alarms, since your trace wouldn't be strong enough. Then, they'd have air or sound tenma cart the absorbed ki to one of their shrines. Yashiro's extra purpose, we think, was to ensure that the tenma could actually get the ki--the tenma couldn't deal with you and Shermie, after all--and to head off any investigation." As Hunding finished speaking, Chris's eyes became unfocussed. He then crumpled to a kneel, his entire body shaking with horror. 

"No...no..." he whispered, "they created life...they created _us_...just to bring back their god...a god they've somehow gotten Yashiro to believe is the good guy..." Chris raised his head, his eyes filled with rage. The rage was so intense that Hunding involuntarily took a step back, even as his mind registered that the rage wasn't directed at him. "I won't...forgive their..._atrocity_...even _if_ Orochi thinks it's saving the world... 

"...all they're doing is manipulating us, manipulating Yashiro...what kind of salvation is that? I think they want to subjugate the world, not just 'save' it from us..." 

"I guess you haven't changed your mind." Hunding was managing to keep his face neutral, but his mind was rejoicing. _I had a few tiny doubts even after that little incident with the Daughter of Kingu...but now I'm sure. If he can get **this** angry at the Heavenly Kings, they have no hold on him at **all.**_

_Son of Moloch, you great and utter fool..._

_You created someone **worthy** of being my nephew, even though you've sworn enmity towards me. Someone who knows what real justice is._

_Someone who knows that humanity is worth something. That's certainly better than you managed._

"I think..." Chris's face became more grim than it had ever been in his existence. "I think once I tell Shermie all this, she'll be happy to join us. The Heavenly Kings _must_ be stopped." 

Hunding took a few moments to take his nephew...yes, Chris was definitely his true kin...in, then smiled and gestured towards the grand hall. "So what are you waiting for? Let's do it!" 

As Hunding rushed out, Chris stared after him, a genuine smile forming on his face. _After I realized who I really was, I didn't know if I should think of you as my uncle. But that madness of a few minutes is over. Perhaps we're not literal kin, but I see no shame in thinking us related. What shame is there in following Justice?_ He followed his uncle to the hall. 

***** Well of the Pleroma, 9:22 a.m. ***** 

Yashiro paced back and forth with impatience. The Heavenly Kings, ever since Onyx's daisho had been primed for ki absorption, had been praying to Orochi non-stop. And none of the three captives had woken up yet. Still, Yashiro did not think he wanted to talk to any of them. Especially not Onyx or Garlon. And he _definitely_ did not think the Kings would make good conversation partners. 

Besides, they would probably smite him if he tried. Getting hit with an Odoru Daichi, a Star-Rending Whip, and/or a Limbs-Biting Blaze was not particularly high on Yashiro's list of favorite things. 

For the ninth time in five minutes, Yashiro let his gaze wander to the south, towards Hallstavik. Where Shermie and Chris were. He was kind of hoping they would show up soon. Even if the Heavenly Kings were planning to crush them almost as soon as they set foot in the shrine. At least there would be _someone_ he counted among his friends there. 

And yet...if battle did break out...who was he to support? His superiors to prove his loyalty to Orochi, or his friends to ensure that none were slain? He knew Shermie and Chris would not be slain--not with their particular functions as ki-catalysts--but anyone else, like Varrius, Hunding, Clark, or Leona...okay, maybe not Leona... 

A groan from the captives caught Yashiro's attention. After taking a quick glance down to the lower level to make sure the Kings had not noticed, he moved to the "prison". Sure enough, Ralf had finally woken up. 

"Where the _hell_ is that kid _now_--" 

"Shhh! Quiet!" Ralf stared in confusion as Yashiro rushed to him. "Believe me, you _don't _want to interrupt their prayers! Their response to that tends to be rather painful." 

"Huh? Okay, buddy, who are _you?_" 

"Nanakase Yashiro, rock star and loyal servant of Orochi and--although I'd prefer not to be indentured to _them_--of the three remaining Heavenly Kings." Yashiro pointed at the prayer circle. 

Ralf craned his neck forward as much as possible--the energy bonds were not allowing much leeway--and managed to see the Orochi threesome. "Yeah, I see what you mean. There's the high-and-mighty Son of Moloch...who's gonna find himself at the foot of this mountain after I get through with him. Not to mention some _weird_ chick and...your twin brother?!" 

Yashiro grimaced. "Worse. My original." 

"Original? What are you talking about now?" 

"In other words, he was cloned from the Son of Kali." 

Yashiro squeezed his eyes shut. He _really_ had not been looking forward to this. "Good morning, Garlon." 

"'Good morning?'" Garlon shifted his gaze to the thick cloud cover hanging over the shrine. "Between my getting caught by the Son of Kali, and this rotten weather we'll be having, I'd say I've had a pretty wretched morning today." 

Ralf stared at the prisoner stuck on his right. "Is _this_ how I get to meet the infamous Garlon? I was hoping we'd be on opposite sides of the battlefield!" 

"Do you really want me to grant that wish?" Garlon smirked at Ralf. "Look, I'll admit that you're at my power level, but what are you going to do about my comrade-in-arms, who happens to be stuck on your left?" 

"Your comrade-in-arms…?" Ralf turned to look at Onyx, who was still unconscious. "Oh. _Another_ weirdo. He looks _kinda_ familiar, but…" He grunted dismissively. "Give me a while, and I'll give him the what for." 

"I'd prefer you give me ideas on _how to get out of here!_" Garlon struggled, futilely, against his bonds. "I have heard about your battle prowess, Mr. Jones. I would appreciate your assistance in fighting the Heavenly Kings, since one of them had a hand in defeating both me and Onyx. You might be the edge we need…again, once we get _out!"_

"…I told you, oneechan, I'm not going out today…" 

"Hey, Onyx!" Garlon's mood had brightened considerably. "Wake up and smell the…the…okay, there isn't anything to smell." 

Onyx let out a quiet sigh. "Just give me time to completely wake up after what that air tenma did to me." He shuddered in his bonds. "How much force did it put into that throw? All I really suffered was that Hoeru Daichi, with my armor dampening it­" 

"Onyx, don't tell me you've forgotten what your Liege told you about the way a full-power Hoeru Daichi would _hurt._ As in, two or three and you're out--since you must have been taking at least a little punishment from the metal tenma, I'd think two would have been enough for you. And I suspect that the air tenma in question set its winds to hurricane speed before it tossed you out. Which means that's how fast _you _were going...So there's nothing to be ashamed of..." 

Onyx exhaled heavily, and craned his neck back. "Even so...six years with my armaments, and this is the first time I've been left with an incomplete set. When we get out, tell Yasuhiro I need a month to retrain myself so I don't make mistakes like that again." 

"Look, armor and swords or not, you're not bloody Superman. You nearly got turned to gelatin by those three Blood Archons a year back, remember. I think we found out your equipment's limits then." 

"You mean those three Blood Archons and that army of skeletons, wraiths, liches, and ghouls." 

Ralf was doing his best to tune out the two assassins' conversation--rather well, considering that he was between them. He kept trying to shift himself to at least loosen the bonds' contact. He didn't succeed. "Hey, Yashiro..." The Orochi replica turned to face him. "Could you, you know, help out a bit? If we can't get out, just make these bonds more comfortable." 

"I have no way to do so. My superiors probably could...but I don't think you could ever convince them to." Yashiro stared down at the Heavenly Kings, still oblivious to the events on the upper level, with angry eyes. "'Most devoted servants of Orochi', indeed...So why do they want to exterminate humanity?!" 

"Probably because that's what Oro-cheeky wants, if that run-in with Goenitz was any indication." 

"No, Ralf. I understand where you're coming from, but you're still wrong." He looked at him sidelong, keeping both Ralf and the Kings in his view. "Orochi Himself has visited my dreams with visions of the perfect world He would restore. A world unpoisoned by chaos, war, strife, confusion, everything in perfect, beautiful order...how can genocide lead to that, and not ruin? The Heavenly Kings will ruin our goals if they get their way. But I know they won't in the long run, because Orochi will not suffer them to. Despite the Son of Kali's rage, despite the late Son of Anshar's ravings--you knew him as Goenitz--Orochi is the God of Perfection, not the God of Hate." Yashiro now turned fully towards his captives. Even Garlon and Onyx had stopped their talk to listen to Yashiro. "There have been so few of us who know His real nature in recent years, especially now with the current batch of Heavenly Kings all violently opposed to humanity. But it is _they, not us,_ who will be rebuked when Orochi returns to part the pure and the corruption, and adopts the righteous of humanity in the final battle against the advocates of the Hyle." 

"Okay, I think I got most of that. But...what's the 'Hyle'? I'm guessing our Australian friend here and his samurai pal know, but I haven't read the glossary." 

Yashiro allowed himself a fraction of a smile. _This isn't so bad after all._ "The Hyle is essentially the set of those universes, realities, whatever you want to call them that are primarily chaotic in nature. More often than not, they're also full of demons that want nothing more than to turn our world into a cesspool of strife, like Ambrosia, and the Satsui Lords. Orochi, though, represents the Pleroma, those universes that are mostly ordered and tranquil. It is He who will forevermore protect our world from the Hyle's influence. No war, no crime, no sorrow...when you get down to it, pretty far removed from the Son of Anshar's ideas." 

"Three words, Yashiro," Garlon muttered. "Orochi is lying." 

"Is your prejudice really so strong, Garlon? Never mind," Yashiro said as he turned away from the assassin. "I know Ralf is worthy of salvation, but you and Onyx are a different story. Onyx, in particular..." He turned his eyes to the bound samurai, who stared back calmly. "Had you succeeded in killing Chris..." 

"I thought he was the actual Son of Moloch. Mistaken identity. But I would never have regretted my actions even if Chris had died. Innocent casualties are an unavoidable, if regrettable, byproduct of war. And you and we _are_ at war." Onyx closed his eyes. "The Orochi Alliance, the shinobi clans Bushin and Shiranui, Mochizuki for good measure, the Prism, the Order of Thoth and Anubis, the Blood Archons, the remnants of C.A.N.Y. and Shadaloo...so much we have to fight against. Yet nothing can dislodge me from where I am. I serve my Liege as fervently as you serve yours...and the two lieges cannot coexist." 

"Oh, please," Garlon groaned. "You're not going to try to _convert_ Yashiro, are you?" 

Onyx laughed quietly. "No, remember that my Liege doesn't want worshippers, only followers to restore what he originally intended." 

Yashiro simply turned away from the assassins and looked back towards Hallstavik. Ralf kept watching him, trying to sort out everything he had just learned. 

_I don't think I've ever met anyone as fervent in their beliefs as Yashiro...except maybe Goenitz, and I'd rather not remember **him**. Kind of hard to believe that someone as decent as him could have the same god as Goe-nutsy. But Garlon's probably right..._

_His faith's based on a lie..._

***** Swedish airspace, 9:35 a.m. ***** 

Hunding and Varrius had been fortunate that the weather was heavily clouded over much of Sweden that day. Even at the altitude it was flying at, the Wyvern Rose and her party were taking to Marstjällik would have been very noticeable. The only downside was that the crew was unable to tell the exact moment of such occurences as actually reaching the Swedish mountains, or crossing over each of the many northwest-southeast rivers of the nation. That is to say, they could not keep an exact track of progress. Currently, the Wyvern was hovering, waiting for a rendezvous with the Hallstavik Wyvern. 

This is not to say that the crew was doing nothing. Indeed, certain of them were engaged in conversation... 

"I don't get it. If you've managed to restore your company from what Gill did, and Varrius is calling in your favor with this little job, why are you still after him?" 

"Because there is still something that I haven't reclaimed, Miss Shiranui." Dudley leaned against the inner wall of the Wyvern, looking out a window at the cloud surface. "As part of his attempt to keep Gill from completely destroying the family company, my father tried to appeal to his taste for fine art. Among Gill's tastes in art are high quality cars. With Varrius's help, I've managed to recover all the objets d'art that became collateral, except for a 1957 Rolls Royce that Gill absolutely refuses to relinquish, because of 'sentimental value.' Personally, I think he's just holding on to it to spite us both." He chuckled. "He actually went so far as to say that he would only give it up if I, Varrius, or Hunding could defeat him in combat. I intend to do precisely that, to make it clear to him that he has no influence left on my family." 

"And this is gonna help Varrius put Gill in his place?" 

"Indeed, Miss Shiranui." 

"Okay, I think I understand now." Mai crouched to adjust one of her sandals. "I just get worried when I hear about deals with members of criminal organizations. Although I guess my problem comes from my experience with the Seishukuu Tourou." 

"Oh, yes, I believe Varrius has mentioned something about Mr. Isawa. One of his least favorite people, I might add. The same goes for Gill, especially after his blackguard brother forged an alliance with him." 

"Whew, the list is growing." Mai stood up and put her hand to her chin. "Let's see...us, the Conaghans, the Bushin, the Mochizuki, Gill, Varrius...I wanna know how he lives with all those enemies!" 

"Well, with Sukune and Kazuo in the way, and also Wadi'a, Onyx, and Garlon when he's particularly lucky..." 

Mai rolled her eyes as she heard the interloper. "Thanks for the reminder, Siobhan." 

"You're welcome, Mai-daimyo." 

Mai rubbed her eyes with her hand. "Would you _please_ not call me that? I'm not daimyo yet, and if I can ever find Katsuda and get his agreement, I'll never be!" 

A long sigh emanated from Siobhan. "Mai, face it. You _are_ the next daimyo, like it or not. I know you were counting on Yousai being the next in line, but with him dead...well...the decision's already set!" 

"Honestly, Siobhan, do you actually think I could ever be a competent daimyo? I don't have my mom's willpower, or verve, or..." Mai drove her palm onto the ship's wall, as Dudley and Siobhan watched silently. "I am not Shirasu, Kazuyoshi, or even Hisaichi," she whispered. "I'm an excellent shinobi, yes, but what else? I can destroy majutsushi, defeat Isawa sorcerors, create or neutralize any of 139 different poisons--fatal and otherwise--decode some of the most intricate computer viruses ever...but how am I to run a clan of four different families? How am I to govern our interactions with the Emperor and the other shinobi families, to keep the Kisaragi and Mochizuki off our throats, to stave off the Isawa family's schemes?" 

Dudley bowed his head and murmurred "I think I underestimated what her brother's death did to her. She seems almost manic-depressive, with that oscillating self-esteem of hers..." 

"You're just unlucky. The nadirs are actually pretty infrequent." Siobhan approached Mai and rested her hand on her shoulder. "Mai...take it easy. I have never heard of a Shiranui daimyo who did everything on his or her own, not even Shirasu himself. You'll have quite a bit of support--Andrew, the daimyo of the Taiyozaki, Shinzawa, and Yamada, Kage if the Taiyozaki get the bad fortune of Shiroko as their daimyo, Fuha Jin and our other sympathizers in the Kisaragi...If you'd just start developing some confidence in your administrative abilities, you could be a daimyo on par with Kazuyoshi." 

Mai raised an eyebrow at her. "_What_ administrative abilities?" 

"They're there. You do remember that raid on Hosokawa Shinjiro and his friends that you coordinated, I hope. I think that was the most successful attack on a majutsushi enclave the clan's ever known in two hundred years!" 

A faint smile crept onto Mai's face. "Yeah, and now Shinjiro's brother is out for our blood. {sigh} I don't know, I just...I just want a normal life..." 

***** Elsewhere in Swedish airspace... ***** 

"All I'm saying is this: We'd better get this over with, _fast._" 

"You don't sound too enthusiastic about this, Kyo-san." 

"C'mon, Clark, what makes you think I'd _want_ to engage in this kind of world-in-the-balance fight every year?!" Kyo crossed his arms and gazed off towards the clouds. "I know what I've gotta do. I just wish my duty wouldn't mess up my life on such a regular basis." 

Clark smiled and adjusted his cap. "Then don't enter the KOF tournaments. Ralf, Heidern and I enter precisely _because_ we anticipate such trouble. I don't see why you would _have_ to enter, unless Orochi were definitely involved." 

"I wish. But after Goenitz squashed me last year, I had a feeling that...that I _had_ to enter the tournament, even though I didn't know he was a Marid. I don't know why...maybe Chizuru was pulling some unseen influence..." Kyo smirked. "Iori, of course, would say that my bad kharma was catching up with me." 

"Well, between Goenitz and your losing to Iori last year, I think he would have reason to believe that." 

Kyo waved his hand dismissively. "Feh. If it weren't for Vice, I would have won easily. Unlike Iori, she obviously knew how to not be careless." 

Iori, meanwhile, was listening from afar. Kyo's last statement had not done wonders for his mood. "Me...careless?" he rumbled to no one in particular, despite the fact that Chizuru and Chris were nearby. "How can His Idleness call _me_ careless, when he has still done nothing to earn everything he has?" 

"He was talking about self-control, not effort. He's kinda right, Yagami--from what I've heard, you probably would never have made it past your third match without your two teammates." 

"A mere novice like you, child, should not presume to judge those more experienced." 

"Don't. Press. Your. Luck." Chris glared up at Iori. "I'm starting to reconsider my opinion that Minoru's more of a jerk than you. Locking you two up together might be the best cure." 

"You had better be referring to Itsuki Minoru." 

"Who else?!" 

"Hosokawa Minoru. A majutsushi. He sent two of his lesser students to kill me two months ago. They died instead. Even with the minor demons they summoned, they had no chance against me." Iori squeezed his eyes shut as his hands clutched involuntarily, and violet fire seeped from between his fingers. "I have never before seen such idiotic carelessness on anyone's part, not even Kyo's. Minoru must have known that those two would be killed..." 

Chizuru, in the meantime, was steadily growing more and more concerned. The only time she had seen greater rage on Iori's face was when she had first explained to him what had happened after Goenitz cursed him with the Riot of the Blood. Even during his anti-Kyo rants, his anger had never reached such levels. "Iori, please...calm down..." 

"I can't," Iori hissed, "not when I still remember their vitality, their enthusiasm, wasted by one with about as much concern for life as Orochi--" 

"You? With concern for others--even mahoutsukai? I would never have expected _that_ from you." Chris's left eyebrow had risen to match his honest disbelief. 

"I want to _avoid_ the world, not kill it. Do not think that I am so stupid as to not know the real source of my pain." Iori opened his right hand, causing the flame there to disappear. "Although Kyo...Kyo...a living mockery of justice is what he is...He dares to reap without sowing or sharing...And Hosokawa and Orochi...both sowers of pain and nothing else..." 

Chris was dumbfounded. "I don't believe it...you actually _dislike_ the pain of others...? I kind of thought you were the apathetic sort..." 

"I know more about pain than anyone else in the world. I wouldn't wish what I have on any save those whose kharma demands it. And of those, Orochi and Hosokawa both deserve such even more than Kyo. Orochi for what it did to me, and Hosokawa...Hosokawa for everything I hate. Love of pain, cowardice, simple sociopathy...At least Kyo has some measure of honor..." 

"{ahem} Iori?" Varrius was craning his head out of the cockpit, scowling. "Not so close to the cockpit, please. We're trying to begin contacting the other Wyvern just now." 

Confusion spread across Iori's face for a fraction of a second, before he realized that he had been raising his voice. He managed to conceal his glower by not looking directly at Varrius. "My apologies, Cicolini. Do what you will--I will certainly not interfere in anything that hastens Orochi's failure." 

Varrius watched as Iori proceeded to stalk towards the Wyvern's rear, keeping his course as far away from Kyo as possible. "Pleasant, isn't he," he said. "Even my boss never manages to be that...um..." Varrius tried to figure out an appropriate adjective. 

A fraction of a smile appeared on Chizuru's face. "He's just never been very comfortable with either his curse or his duty. His soul's been seared by Orochi's taint...I think it's only been since Goenitz's death, and the first Bloodriot, that he's been blaming Orochi, not the world, for what befell him." 

"It shows," Chris sighed. "The Daughter of Kingu and her friends should have made a clone of _him_ while they were creating _us._" 

Chizuru shook her head. "He would never have stood for anything like that. Honor, justice, nobility--they've been latent in him all his life, just sublimated by his rage. You just heard the reasons why he hates Hosokawa. I've seen firsthand his horror at having to kill, both when confronted by necromancers and when under the Bloodriot. And I can see mirrored in his eyes his yearnings, his fears..." She cast her gaze downward, and her voice began to quaver. "So much righteous anger...so much pain...Even my feelings towards Goenitz after he murdered my sister eleven years ago might not match..." 

"Oh, man," Chris murmurred, looking in the direction Iori had gone. His annoyance towards him had decayed into a fledgling sympathy while Chizuru had spoken of him. "I know judging by appeareances is a bad idea, but with him..." He trailed off when he looked back at Chizuru. She was still looking at the ground, but now, a couple of tears had trickled down her face. Somehow, Chris understood that she wasn't crying over his sister. He turned to face Varrius, who was registering some surprise at what he saw, thus confirming Chris's suspicions. _One massive discovery after another today,_ he thought, as Varrius returned to the cockpit and Chizuru regained her composure. _First Shermie's original, then **my** original, then Iori's little core of goodness...and now, someone might actually be in love with him? If we're lucky, we can cap it off by getting Yashiro to realize what he's really serving..._

Chizuru, meanwhile, was still quavering internally over the memories of Iori's plight. She still remembered so well when she had finally relocated him after KOF '96. Apparently, sometime after the triggering of the Bloodriot, Iori had been teleported out of the arena by an unknown infiltrator (she strongly suspected a certain Australian assassin infatuated with a certain ex-Hakkeshu). She remembered his utter terror at his loss of control...at being made to kill two people he had no wish to destroy. 

Iori almost never let his fear, or his latent compassion, alloyed as it was with anger towards the world, show to anyone, outside of his aversion to violence in general. But that was when he was still sure of himself. If only for one or two days, ten minutes' worth of an uncontrollable killing frenzy--even if some of it was in an uninhabited mountain area, courtesy the infiltrator--had completely undone that. 

It was possibly the first time Iori had ever cried in his adult life, albeit he had been shedding more tears of terror than tears of sorrow. Still, had Chizuru not found him so quickly...he might have gone completely insane from the Bloodriot's repercussions... 

It was not something Chizuru liked to think about... 

In any case, during those two days, Iori had experienced something else he'd never known before--real kindness. Just about everyone else he'd known either ignored him, manipulated him, both, or wanted to fight him. But Chizuru chose none of those options. And her kindness was born not just because of his destiny against Orochi, but simply because he was human, and so did not deserve the pain of the Bloodriot and the Ya Otome. Even though Iori himself did not value himself as a human...because he had difficulty recognizing his humanity for what it was. 

After those days of protection and succoring, Iori had managed to find a role as a lead guitarist in the newly-formed Arashi Samurai. Although his band's schedule kept him on the move throughout Japan, and Iori preferred to take his own, usually exceptionally cheap lodgings (much to Minoru's irritation) wherever they travelled, he and Chizuru managed to meet many times. Although Iori still couldn't bring himself to name his connection with Chizuru as friendship, it still had that very quality. Whenever they met, she had seen in his eyes gratefulness for her presence. And the fledgling warmth of heart towards existence that was still muted by his self-hatred... 

His goodness was definitely there in his persona, fighting to overpower the misery of his past. But ever since he had met Chizuru, the former element was gaining more ground. After every time they met, Chizuru admired Iori's emerging noble qualities, his resolute soul, more and more. 

And then, more than admired... 

Two months ago, she had admitted to herself that she loved Iori. She knew of the Western concept of a knight in shining armor. Iori was something similar­the ronin looking for a worthy cause, and currently frustrated from lack of anything worthy. It hurt to see that frustration, that inability to see anything beyond the troubles with Orochi and Kyo...to see the future that would accept him, succor him...especially since Chizuru knew of a cause that would satiate his hunger to do something worthy. But, he would only see what was there if he opened his eyes on his own... 

_Oh, Iori..._Chizuru's eyes began to tear again as she looked towards Iori's new hiding place. _When will you be ready to hear my love for you? When will you recognize your real destiny?_

_I would fight Hiisi and Tlaloc themselves for you...I can't even tell what I'm fighting more for now...the actual defeat of Orochi, or saving you from it..._

***** 

_When we get to Marstjällik, I'll come out._

Iori had finally managed to find a place to rest alone in the Wyvern. Admittedly, that place was very noisy, being where the dorsal weapon systems engines and part of the tail motor were encased, but no one else was there. For Iori, that was what mattered. 

No Kyo, no Chris, no alternately moping and grim Shermie, no Leona... 

...no Chizuru... 

Iori sighed as he looked out of the window at his chosen resting point without watching the clouds below. He still didn't know what to make of Chizuru... 

The Yagami had been wealthy as assassins even after the 1802 flight of about half the clan to the Isawa, seeking the promise of a cure for the taint Hiroto had brought about. Iori had a feeling that such a cure had been found--after all, the Isawa had never been rent asunder by angry Yagami... 

But the price--working for a group of sorcerors heavily involved in smuggling, assassins' work, and who knew what else--was much too high... 

Even if it _did_ mean that before he reached the age of forty-five, the Bloodriot's insistent call would irrevocably annihilate his sanity...His father only had a few shreds of sanity left. The über-assassin, Tsuruchi, was completely insane. Iori wasn't sure he was that far removed... 

He could still see it... 

His hands tearing flame-bordered gouges into Mature...less than twenty-four hours after they had last shared his bed...Mature collapsing into a capacious pool of her own blood, which was boiling and emitting violet fumes in places... 

Vice was not so clear--and not just because, unlike Mature, she had successfully protected her virginity. She had had time to mount a defense...and then that swordsman had appeared... 

He knew he had inflicted horrendous wounds upon Vice...He could still remember the sound, at the end, of her shoulder blades breaking, her clavicle cracking, as he crushed her with a full Aoi Hana from behind, then the swordsman stuffing him into a portal that sent him to some very desolate mountains... 

He had probably created the portal before he shattered Vice's back...He couldn't be that sure that Vice had died, but it was very likely, nonetheless... 

The truth of the matter was that there were very few people Iori ever really sought the death of. Kyo, Goenitz, Hosokawa, Orochi...maybe Geese...but that was it. Any death not of them...that had not been his intent. 

And three of those deaths, he had had absolutely no control over... 

Considering his past, was it any wonder his own bandmates feared him? Likewise, to a much lesser degree, most of the other regular participants in the KOF tournaments? 

Chizuru was the only one who ever associated with him willingly, without selfish ends and with complete trust. The only person who _believed_ in his soul's competence. Thus, she was the only person he respected outside of himself. 

Not to mention the only person he actually ever _liked_ being with... 

From what he had seen of the original Arashi Samurai--that is, all except himself and Minoru--Iori had a very good idea of what real happiness was. And it was something he had never experienced, thanks to the circumstances of his existence. If it weren't for the consistent press of his curse, though, he would probably know it with Chizuru. What he felt in her presence certainly came close... 

Or perhaps, if he for once ignored his curse's presence, Chizuru really was his best friend, with everything that phrase entailed. After all, he never felt reticent about discussing anything with her...so long as she was the only one present, that was... 

An unbidden image came to Iori's mind­him and Chizuru alone at the top of a strong tower, perfectly safe from all else, Orochi included. In accompaniment, there came the idea that such a tower would have been of Chizuru's devising, especially for Iori. 

Perhaps Chizuru's endeavor's to help Iori hadn't reached _that_ high a level of determination (desperation?), but he didn't think he would mind. At least the company would be good… 

As though on cue, more images appeared. This happened at times­Iori's mind dwelling on the idea of being with Chizuru. The circumstances of those images had a very wide range, but the theme was the same­parity with Chizuru. Iori would have liked to keep the images with him…if they didn't have the habit of moving uncomfortably close to the kind of territory Mature had held… 

And considering how _she_ had ended up… 

Iori sighed quietly. As much as he would love to be in Chizuru's range all his life, it was perhaps better to maintain some distance. He knew what his ultimate fate was, and he could not bring himself to let that fate blast Chizuru in the process… 

Even if his heart felt a pain completely unrelated to the Ya Otome whenever he resolved that… 

***** 

"I do not care," Varrius said as he seated himself back into the co-pilot's console, "if we have to attack the Devil's Tower and raze it to the ground, we are finding the secret to the de-tainting of the Yagami!" 

Hunding looked quizzically at him. "What was that all about?" 

"Chizuru," Varrius said, his face set as steel. "I've seen that kind of concern often enough both in the Order and the Prism. Trust me, Hunding, she's in love with Iori. I will not see her hopes dashed by the Bloodriot. I absolutely _refuse_ to see love thwarted!" Fire danced in his eyes as his voice steadily rose. "Maybe Gill has forgotten all the forms of love, but I haven't! Once we get back from this mission, I don't care if he thinks there's something more important for us to do, we are taking a fleet of Wyverns straight to Dauphine, blowing everyone out of the Devil's Tower--Graf Zeppelin or no Graf Zeppelin--and taking all the biomantic research there!" 

"What...?" Hunding quickly glanced behind him to see if Chris or Chizuru had noticed Varrius's outburst; they hadn't, having wandered further towards the Wyvern's back. "Even with Urien around, I haven't seen you explode like this for a long time, Varrius. You're usually more collected than this. Why are you being so emotional and melodramatic now?" Hunding peered at his old friend. "The last time you got this fiery was five years ago, for Thoth's sake. That was during...of course. It's Rose, isn't it? That's got to be what's bothering you..." 

All the fire and steam seemed to deflate out of Varrius at once. "{sigh} I...suppose you're right. Ten years here...but I know I did the right thing..." 

"Well, you did. Granted, I wouldn't want to have the kind of responsibility you have, juggling loyalty to both the Order and--sort of--the Prism, but it's a good thing _someone_ did. Before you came on the scene, quite a few of us were worried that Gill would start ending up like Urien. And now...look at what's become of the Order..." 

"Yes, I know..." Varrius leaned back. Hunding felt himself fill with worry when he noticed how troubled the Italian's eyes had become. "But...I do sometimes wonder, like now, if I've really done enough. Gill still has those delusions about the 'madness of unrestrained free will'. I don't think we've yet managed to get across to him that his despotism should only be temporary until all the ills we know and hate--C.A.N.Y., the Bakemono, and so on--are gone forever. In fact, I sometimes wonder if...if we really managed to keep him from being like Urien, after all...That's when I wonder if my sacrifice...my betrayal...abandoning my chance to win Rose...were worth it..." 

Hunding smiled wanly. "I don't think any of us in the reform movement has never had such doubts about our efficacy. Maybe we're just becoming more realistic--you too. You didn't complain about the last three defections to the Prism, all from our movement." 

"I think _that_ was because I was exhausted from keeping Urien and his Seishukuu Tourou friends out of the old Cyprus base. Ever try coordinating plans with a bunch of preserved brains whose souls left long ago, becoming little more than super-computers with a ridiculous ego? Taking on Yasuhiro one-on-one might be easier!" 

Hunding's attempts to formulate a response were interrupted by a repeating chime from the control console. "Ah, about time." Hunding hurriedly adjusted the controls to fully open the communications channel. "Rosa Montecchio? Dudley Vaughan? Anyone?" 

"Yes, this is Rosa Montecchio." Rose's voice and image came over the channel. "Do you read, Wyvern?" 

"We read you loud and clear." Hunding quickly glanced at Varrius; indeed, he had become more relaxed very quickly. _Yes, I'd say he misses her._ "I have your coordinates; we can rendezvous with you in five minutes, and reach Marstjällik in another six minutes. Is everyone ready for the likely battle?" 

"I believe so, yes. Morale appears high among us all. Can I trust the same applies to you?" 

"My only concern is how well some of our people will fare with Yagami Iori. Specifically, Kusanagi Kyo and Chris Andersson." 

****** 

Mai had recovered from her depressive fit some time ago. At the moment, she was standing just outside her party's Wyvern's cockpit, listening in on Rose's conversation with Hunding. 

"Morale appears high among us all," Rose was saying. "Can I trust the same applies to you?" 

_It had better,_ Mai thought. _If we're going to be near a mountain's summit, we don't need anyone getting so scared that they end up just getting in the way. We nearly lost the Shinzawa Grottoes to the Kisaragi fifty years ago because some of the Taiyozaki there lost their nerve. If we hadn't recently gained the Yamada's support..._

Hunding's voice could be heard from the cockpit, albeit faintly. "My only concern is how some of our people will fare with Yagami Iori." 

_No big deal,_ Mai smirked mentally. _Just put him on one flank, and his detractors on the other. Yeah, he might get lonely over there, but this is the guy who apparently killed Goen--_

Mai's thoughts were interrupted when she heard Hunding's next sentence. "Specifically, Kusanagi Kyo and Chris Andersson." The second name was what startled Mai. _What?...Chris Andersson? As in the Ukuuchuukan no Mikoto?_ _No way..._

"Something wrong, Mai?" 

Mai turned to see King. "Wrong, no," she responded. "Weird, yes. So help me, I just heard the pilot of the other Wyvern say that a member of my new favorite band is on board." 

"You're sure about that?" King moved closer to the cockpit so she could get a better idea of what was happening... 

Hunding was speaking. "...known as a musician, but he's also a very capable fighter. He trained under Asahara Kisada himself! He and Shermie won't be lacking for motivation, either, since their band's leader is one of the Marstjällik hostages." 

"Nope. You didn't hear him wrong." King smiled at Mai. "Just try not to go after them for autographs." 

Mai contorted her face into mock disappointment. "Not even after the battle?" She exaggeratedly turned her back on King. "I think they'd be honored..." 

Rose, meanwhile, was continuing her conversation with Hunding. "Let's see...you, Varrius, Shermie, Chris, Kyo, and Iori are on that Wyvern. Who else?" 

"Kagura Chizuru, Clark Steel, and Leona Heidern are the remaining three. Those last two are here because _their_ third member, Ralf Jones, is the other hostage. From what I know of your personnel, there shouldn't be any personality clashes, except, perhaps, anyone with issues about Iori." 

"No, I don't think so either...Besides, everyone here is eager to fight the Orochi Alliance. If there _were_ any clashes, I'm sure they would be ignored in favor of the battle itself." 

Hunding laughed gently. "The same is certainly true here. Leona and Clark are looking for revenge, so too are Shermie and Chris--particularly given some things the Kings did regarding them, which I won't go into detail about--and the Shinji are duty-driven, as are Varrius and myself." 

"I see...but tell me, Hunding." Rose now looked slightly confused about something. "From what Varrius has told me, you're...well...normally much more uncertain and cautious about things than this. When did you become this calm?" 

"I've been wondering myself." Hunding's eyes closed as he recalled the day's past events. "I suppose it's just that I'm about to confront the greatest foe of my life. Not C.A.N.Y. Not Amondule. Not Urien. The Orochi Alliance." His eyes opened again, now filled with steel. "I've finally realized how much I've been yearning for a chance to confront the madness that would have either enslaved or destroyed me if Gill's forces hadn't rescued me. I can't really rest...not until the shadow that has chased me for my entire life is brought down. I suppose it's like how you feel about Bison." 

_Bison...? Yes, I suppose I see..._"I understand your point, Thien. Although he's not important in this. What is important is, that we are ready to destroy the Heavenly Kings. And I see no reason to believe otherwise, from what you've told me." 

"Good. So...it would seem to be time to fight the devouring darkness. Again, I ask you...are you all ready?" 

Rose smiled as she remembered the Wyvern's other occupants. "Ready." 

***** Well of the Pleroma, 9:49 a.m. ***** 

_Why the hell am I feeling so damned nervous?_

Yashiro gripped the upper level's railing tightly as he watched the skies beyond the shrine. The Kings had already gone beneath the shrine to perform their pre-battle prayers and rituals. Yashiro, having Free Will, was not invited, since he was "impure". In fact, the Kings had no intention of emerging until the warriors the Son of Moloch and Daughter of Kingu had encountered had landed at the Well. Their reasoning was that they, as Orochi's "perfect servants", were too pure and holy to be looked upon first by their foes. Instead, they would behold them first. 

Now, Yashiro was left alone with the three prisoners, and the glittering energy well that held Onyx's daisho. None of the four felt like talking. 

Yashiro shuddered as he felt concern and fear for Shermie and Chris course through him. _Gotta keep control, here...Gotta remember what we're trying to do with this battle. Still...that new idea the Kings had, of actually inviting three tenma to help out...They're definitely spoiling for a slaughter of humans..._

Onyx, meanwhile, was still trying to adjust himself in his bonds, to see if there were any way of at least getting more comfortable. _This is ridiculous. I'm starting to get the impression that these bonds are supposed to get tighter with every movement! And the energy itself...ugh...I think the only place I dealt with fouler energy was the majutsushi enclave under Iwo Jima. At least **there,** I could cut up those barriers and spelltraps with my daisho..._His eyes suddenly lit with understanding._ Of course...**that's** how we can get out..._Onyx looked over at Yashiro. _Granted, we'll never get Thrall-san there to get us out right now, but...he's concerned enough about his would-be rescuers that he'll want to join in the fight, especially with three tenma added to the ranks._ The assassin smirked behind his mempo. _And of course, why would he turn down help from a mercenary and a pair of swordsmen? Especially if the battle gets really desperate...which I'm sure it will..._

"Onyx." Onyx turned to face Garlon. "Figured out anything about the prison?" 

"I know how we can get out, yes." Onyx's eyes were absolutely serene. 

"_HOW?"_ Garlon and Ralf uttered the word as one. 

"Well...we'll probably have to wait until the battle is well under way..." 

Yashiro frowned when he heard Onyx. _Wonderful. The last thing I need is for those three to get out and thwart the rescue of Orochi **after** the battle's gone into full swing._ He shuddered. _Or rather...after others may have died..._

A distant whirring sound caught Yashiro from his thoughts, as well as the prisoners. Yashiro leaned forward, trying to see what was making the noise. Then, he found out the source--a pair of giant helicopters, descending through the clouds and flying straight for the Well. 

"They're here," he whispered. "They've come..." 

A wide grin etched itself onto Ralf's face. "Awww_right_. Orochi flambé, anyone? Because our three friends are about to get burned to a crisp..." 

Yashiro, although he would have agreed with Ralf's sentiments, wasn't paying attention. Rather, he was amazed by the fact that there were two gunships. _Just how large an army did Hunding and Varrius field...?_

***** 

"Clearing cloud cover..." Varrius rubbed his hands together with anticipation. "In just a few minutes we'll be enjoying a little 'talk' with the Heavenly Kings about the merits of kidnapping." 

"That and more," King said over the commlink. In addition to audio, both crews were sharing a visual shot of the area in front of the Hallstavik Wyvern­so far, nothing but clouds. Even so, both gunships' crews had gathered in the cockpits. "What do you suppose we'll have to fight?" 

"Just the three remaining Kings. We'll outnumber them pretty well." Varrius's confident smile lessened a little. "At least, unless they actually thought to let tenma on the Well. So we should hope that they're still bound by their laws of purity, their ritu­People, are you seeing this, too?" 

The Hallstavik Wyvern had just broken through the clouds, and sighted the energy beam emanating from the Well's center. "I'm seeing it," King muttered. "I take it that the beam's not normal?" 

"Anything but! I can't tell what kind of energy it is, except that it's some kind of containment field, and more." 

"Well, what's it containing?" Shermie asked. 

"Give me a few moments to zoom in." Varrius worked the controls to get a closer look at the beam. In just a couple of seconds, both gunships had a clear picture of the beam's contents. 

"What...?" Clark was completely unsure to make of the new picture. "Daisho? What're the Marids doing with those?" 

"I don't know...but..." Leona hesitated as she peered at the graphic. "I think I know those daisho from somewhere..." 

"Anything we'd know about?" 

"No, King...I remember them from my missions­that's it! The samurai in the Amakusa Islands had them!" 

Clark started at the mention of the Amakusa Islands, while Chris blanched. "Oh, God, no," Chris whimpered. "I _really_ don't want to put up with _that_ creep today." 

"What? There's someone else there?" Shermie did not look happy with Chris's words. "That's all we needed--somebody to get in the way of Yashiro's rescue!" 

"Actually, I don't know if our mantis-symbol friend would ever help Orochi out...but he tried to kill me once..." 

"'Mantis'?" Andy asked. "I know of someone who might fit the description­someone I'm not keen on meeting myself­but...are you sure this is the Onyx Samurai we're talking about?" 

"_Onyx?_" Mai didn't like the implications of what was going on. Siobhan made no reaction; she had heard, all right, but she didn't want to risk missing anything while responding. "Chris...um...did this samurai have black-and-white armor, and a hexagon on his kabuto?" 

"Yeah! And that mantis emblem on his armor, as your friend said. Why, do you know him?" 

"Too...damn...well," Mai growled. "You apparently ran into my brother's murderer. I kinda hope that the fact of his swords' presence means Onyx's dead." 

"I wish it were so, Shiranui-san," Varrius transmitted, "but that's not the case. I just checked over the rest of the Well­look who I found." 

Mai, Andy, and Siobhan returned their gaze to the vidscreen, which was now focussed a little to the left of the beam. "I see what you mean," Siobhan murmurred as she saw the bound Onyx. Beside her, Mai and Andy wilted a little as their hopes for a dead Onyx were thwarted. "Although, if these guys could kidnap this nutball..." 

"...we have a severe problem," Chris finished. Now extremely worried, he faced Hunding and Varrius. "I don't like this. When I had to face off against Onyx, I found out firsthand how powerful he is. The Kings would have to be godlike if they could capture him­" 

"­and Garlon," Hunding added with amazement. "I can see him in this rightward shot, along with Yashiro." 

"_Both_ the assassins?" Dudley's voice was incredulous. "Mai and Andy told me about those two wretches. Chris is right­if Garlon and Onyx could be brought down by them...This won't be an overwhelming victory at all­we'll only be about even!" 

"What are you people all so worried about?" Iori rumbled. "We have among us three Shinji representatives, two sorcerors, two psionicists...There is no hope for the Kings. They _will_ be destroyed. Especially when I bring myself to bear upon them..." 

"Hey, didn't think _you'd_ be our voice of confidence," Chris smiled. "Ease off on the surprises, though. We can't fight very well if we're _too_ stunned." Understanding, albeit somewhat nervous chuckling echoed along both directions of the commlink. 

"Child..." Iori rumbled. 

Varrius rolled his eyes at what he was once again hearing. "Gentlemen, please replace the cap. We need harmony for this little operation to go through." He smiled as Chris and Iori became quiet. "Thank you." 

"Actually, Signor Cicolini," King said, "I think we're as harmonious as we're going to be. We just cleared the cloud cover ourselves. Considering how likely a fight's going to break out in the few minutes after we set foot on the shrine..." 

"Point taken, Mademoiselle King." Varrius took one last look at his console and the view from the cockpit, then set the Wyvern to hover. He sprang out of his seat, Hunding following him. "Okay, people. It's time to set foot on the shrine and say hello to Orochi's finest. Who's first?" Varrius reached the rope ladder hatch to find Shermie already situated to descend. "Okay, I guess you're first. You were awfully quiet during the flight--I take it you were preparing yourself for this." 

Shermie adjusted the collar of her blouse. "There's too much for me to lose. Yashiro, ensuring that the Kings can't use me like they used him...You'd better believe I'm ready. And I won't be not ready until this shrine is rubble..." 

***** 

Yashiro, Ralf, Onyx, and Garlon watched as the rope ladders unfurled from the hovering Wyverns. "This is it, Yashiro," Garlon said. "Do you still want to help your not-quite-god's return? Or do you remove a certain Ankoku Byakko, Seiryu, and Suzaku from our midst?" 

"If I knew of a way to do it dependably, both." Yashiro was issuing mental command after mental command to his muscles to relax for once. "If this actually goes through, we'll be spared the trouble of having to parasitize the KOF tournament and sacrifice Kushinada Yuki. But the fact remains that we need at least two true-blood Orochi descendents to effect the recovery. And I have no idea how long Onyx's daisho need to soak up and catalyze ambient ki to ensure that the recovery will actually happen. So, even though I'd love to fight with Shermie and Chris, no, I can't interfere." 

"Thanks a lot," Garlon growled. "Still, let's see who we've got. Shermie, Rose, Iori, King--ANDY?!" 

Onyx noticed his friend's shocked look. "I think he would have noticed the daisho well before he actually landed, Edward. He probably found _us_, too. I wouldn't worry--he wants to save the world--" 

"They, Onyx." Garlon's voice and face had become even more worried. "Mai and Siobhan have disembarked too--ditto your friend Leona." 

"Alright, they've got a small patrol only too happy to slice me to...well, _try to_ slice me to shreds, but my point is that if they have any intelligence, they're going to save us for _after_ the Kings." 

"Don't expect me to protect you in that case," Ralf smirked. "Especially since I finally remembered you. Remember the Amakusa Islands?" 

Onyx stared at him. "You have to ask after Leona and Chris have appeared?" 

"HEY, GARLON! ONYX! ENJOYING THE ACCOMODATIONS?" 

"Well," Garlon muttered, "Mai obviously doesn't mind _taunting_ us before the big battle..." 

"I gotta admit," Mai called with a lower volume, albeit still enough to reach the upper balcony, "seeing you two up there tells me all kinds of horrid things about our opponents. But at least dragging you back to the Emperor should be a snap!" 

"Shouldn't you be more worried about preparing for battle?" Garlon called back. 

"Varrius wants us to form a ring around the rim of the shrine--he says that'll make it easier for us to surround the Heavenly Kings when the fight begins." She gestured to the ring rapidly forming to Varrius's gestures. "I don't want to just stand around for the few minutes it'll take the Kings to notice us, so I thought I might take a little time to get you to _really_ feel what it's like to be powerless." 

"You're not doing a good job." 

Realizing what he was in for if he stayed near, Yashiro rapidly walked towards Onyx's end of the balcony--partly to avoid the argument, partly because Shermie and Chris had positioned themselves at that end. Just as he was about to look at them, he felt a terrible pain in his heart--as though he had rendered himself unworthy of them... 

_No,_ he thought fiercely to himself. _If anyone's to blame, it's the Kings for making me hide Orochi's truth from them._ He managed to get himself to look at them. He was a little relieved to see that their faces were filled not with anger, but with...confusion? _They want to understand._ "Shermie, Chris...don't worry. There's no way Orochi will let the Kings prevail over you." 

"Yashiro, please," Shermie implored, "come down from there and help us! We can get you out of Orochi's deceptions if you'll listen to us." 

"They're not lies. Orochi seeks the world's perfection, and I have to avoid intervening if His restoration is to come true." He smiled wanly. "I'll help if it's the only way you can survive, but..." Yashiro closed his eyes. "I can't believe it--I'm helping Orochi's blasphemers bring Him back to this world. Maybe I am His only true servant at this time." 

"Far from it." 

Yashiro started as he heard the voice that was not his, and still his. He bent his head over the balcony's railing, and saw the mountain's wall slowly grind open, commanding the attention of all at the shrine, even Garlon and Mai. Varrius had barely enough presence of mind to use his remote units to command the Wyverns to fly back through the cloud cover. As the wall-doors opened further, foul violet and blue light radiated out, creeping towards the well holding the daisho. Once the opening stretched almost to both stairwells, the grinding stopped. Then, the source of the light began to emerge. 

In front of it, the Daughter of Kingu, Son of Kali, and Son of Moloch, resplendent in their militant uniforms. Shermie felt a familiar horror pulse through her body on seeing the Daughter--and a related horror on seeing the Sons. Chris for his part, merely stared slack-jawed at the three unholy warriors who matched him and his two best friends exactly in appearance, if not in demeanor. Behind them were three tenma--an earth tenma, and the light sources, an electricity tenma and a fire tenma. 

Most of Hunding and Rose's party found themselves looking back and forth from the Kings to their doubles and back as the wall groaned shut again. "What are we dealing with?" Dudley asked finally. "Twins? Clones? Androids?" 

"Clones," the Daughter smiled. "Except for the Free Will, absolutely perfect." She turned her gaze towards Shermie. 

"Like hell we're perfect clones of you," Shermie snarled. 

"You are," the Daughter persisted. "In the case of us two, we have the same DNA, the same capillary networks--even the same egg cells. At least, we did when we created you." 

"Wha...same _egg cells?_ You couldn't have done that with body tissue...how did...?" 

"We're their shadows, Shermie." Yashiro nervously shifted his grip on the railing. "They literally split ki shells from their bodies and souls, gave us actual material form, _improved_ us"--he paused to glower at the Kings--"with Free Will, and sent us out. I was supposed to make sure the purpose actually went through." 

The Son of Kali smirked at Yashiro, as the tenma managed to convey the same, even though only the earth tenma had a face. "About time the 'true servant' showed some humility." 

"'Purpose'?" Kyo stared down the Kings. "What were you three scheming?" 

"I wouldn't call it _exactly_ scheming." The Son of Moloch was beaming. "We just set things in motion, and once Yashiro did his work, you'd essentially do the rest of the work for us." 

"WHAT! Why the hell would we do your work for you?!" 

"The harvesting of ambient ki," Chizuru said. "Having Orochi bodies, if not quite Orochi souls, ambient ki would stick to them like magnets. From there, it could be conducted to break the Shinji seal." 

"Smart woman," the Daughter grinned. "All we had to do was get Yashiro to conduct himself and our other clones to a place where many of the mighty clashed." She raised her right palm to the sky and allowed electricity to gather about it. "I believe you get the picture...?" 

"The King of Fighters tournament..." King whispered. "You were going to use it for your own foul purposes..." 

"'Foul?'" The Son of Kali affected a yawn. "Just like the Free-Willed to get everything backwards." 

"No," Hunding said, "they've got it right." He unbuckled his wand from his belt. "Despite what your false god says, humanity has a right to exist­as does the Hyle." 

"Wrong on all counts," the Son of Moloch sneered. The sneer deepened when he noticed Hunding's armaments. "Oh, really nice--the Sword of Lemminkaïnen? You think a _Seelie_ artifact's going to help?" 

"Of course. The Sword was meant to deal with threats like you." Hunding shifted his wand to his left hand, then unsheathed the Sword with his right. As he did so, energy flashed along its length. "As well as rakshasi, oni, the agents of Tlaloc, Hiisi and Louhi...have some respect for those who would protect all, would you?" 

"Not if they're not approved by Orochi." 

"Orochi this, Orochi that. So why are you using the weapons of the Onyx Samurai--one of Orochi's most ardent foes?" 

"Ha. We're not going to be keeping the weapons after they've served their purpose. We'll let Orochi Himself destroy them," the Son of Kali smirked. 

"A purpose for the crystal daisho, hm?" Siobhan looked skeptical. "How about explaining it to us, rather than forcing us to wait for God to tell us?" 

"I suppose it will impress upon you the inevitability of Orochi's rule. Then you can start obediently awaiting your annihilation." He gestured at the daisho. "The Sekken Suru Tsume and Gekiretsuna Tsume. Two of the most powerful weapons known to anyone on this world, Free-Willed or Marid. They were partly meant to protect everyone's favorite evil samurai from harm by conducting, converting, and dissipating offensive energies." 

"Yes, they were. And in case you've forgotten," Onyx snarled from his prison, "they didn't like being picked up by you." 

The Son of Kali shrugged. "So? The procedure is automatic--they couldn't withhold it if they wanted to. So, we decided to put them where they could be put to good use. If you thought _we_ were ki magnets, the receptacle the Tsume are in makes us weak in comparison." He gestured to the energy well. "The Tsume will have no choice but to soak up all the ki that's about to be released. Thing is, ki tends to self-magnify a little when it comes into contact with pleromatic energy--like the receptacle." 

"Therefore," the Son of Moloch finished, "our ambient ki will be magnified twice--once when it reaches the receptacle, and again when the Tsume spit it back out. After that, it'll gather beneath the shrine, ready for use to break the Shinji seal and restore our almighty Lord Orochi!" 

The gathered Free-Willed warriors soaked all this up for a few seconds. That was when Iori spoke. "Not if I have a say in the matter." 

"You don't." The Daughter of Kingu stepped forward. "Much of your family has been rather...lax...with regard to following Hiroto's wisdom. But the pact holds--you _will_ serve Lord Orochi." 

"_No._" Iori stepped forward. "I have not forgotten Goenitz's post-mortem insult. And I definitely haven't forgotten what Orochi turned my family into. After the way you've used me, tried to corrupt me more than I already am, into Orochi's slave...I will never forgive you or your so-called god!" 

Yashiro, meanwhile, was watching the proceedings intently. "Come on, come on," he muttered, "get going. With all these people, you're going to get slaughtered." 

"Even with three tenma helping them out?" Garlon sounded less than confident. 

"Bah. They still have a chance. They've got a 5:3 advantage numerically, and tenma are not exactly the most intelligent of elementals. I guess I'll get both wishes after all." He smiled beatifically. 

"I hate to tell you this, Yashiro," Onyx said, "but I think I see another crimp in your hopes." 

"What?" Yashiro was less than patient with this new pessimism. 

"Well...it's the way your original and the Son of Moloch seem to be concentrating while the Daughter of Kingu and Iori are arguing. I wish I had _some_ idea of what kind of quasi-mahou they're doing." 

Yashiro rushed over to the railing and looked over. As Onyx had said, the Sons were apparently preparing some kind of spell... 

"Let's get one thing straight, Orochi slime," Iori hissed. "You cannot control me. Yes, I've fallen into the Bloodriot several times--_but I've always gotten out._ I've never been in it for more than a minute, and fortunately, ever since Mature and Vice, I've only ended up killing assassins and mahoutsukai. My life is my own!" 

"No, it's not. Not yours, not Leona's, not any Marid-blooded's. We belong to Lord Orochi, and only Him." 

"Now see here..." Leona now stepped forward to confront the Daughter. "I've taken enough garbage from Goenitz's dream messages. The last thing I need is to hear the same stupidity from your mouths!" 

Kyo cast a nervous glance at Varrius. "Um, when are we gonna have to back them up?" 

"Soon," Varrius replied. "Those tenma are probably planning to trample us if we make the first move--they can do it, too. That electricity tenma alone could kill one of us in fifteen seconds if that one isn't watching it carefully. That's why we're in a ring--we can surround the Orochi forces, and cut them off from one another by getting two or three warriors concentrated on each one." 

"It is not stupidity." The Daughter drummed her fingers together. "It is the truth. Nothing can ultimately stop the power of the perfect. Nothing. It would be so much easier for you if you joined us on your own. Your souls would certainly be succored by Orochi if you accepted His word of the Hyle's death." 

"Go to hell," Leona growled. "I'm not going to participate in the world's destruction. What I _am_ going to do is rescue Ralf, and bring death to _you_ three and your pet monsters!" The tenma visibly bristled at being called "monsters". 

"I think not," the Daughter whispered. "_We_ think not." 

_We?_ Yashiro frowned. _She must mean the other two Kings. But how would they be--_Of a sudden, Yashiro understood, with a sick feeling, what the Sons were doing. "No...NOOOO!!" He rushed to the left stairwell. "I WON'T LET YOU BLASPHEME OROCHI BY INVOK--" 

"Silence, Yashiro." The Daughter pointed in front of him, summoning a sphere of energy for him to ram into. On contact, the sphere broke, blasting Yashiro back to the landing. 

"What?" Chris rapidly shifted his gaze to Yashiro. "Yash, what is it?" 

"STOP THEM!" Yashiro desperately picked himself back up. "STOP THE SONS!" 

"You're too late, Yashiro." The Daughter indicated the Sons, who had finished their prayer to Orochi. "As are the rest of you," she told the assembled warriors. "You were too cautious." 

"Too cautious?" Leona raised an eyebrow. "How do you fi--" Leona's words stopped short, then became a pained gurgle as she fell to her knees. 

"What?" Iori turned fiercely to the Kings. "What did you just dooOOOAAGHHH!!!" Iori, like Leona, fell to a kneel, coughing up blood. 

The other warriors, meanwhile, were all in shock. "Sacre Dieu," Shermie whispered. "What...happened to them...?" 

"The Riot of the B-blood..." Chizuru choked. "The Sons were secretly invoking Orochi's power over them..." _Iori...no...not after all we've done..._She stared at the Kings with anger swiftly turning to rage. "Release them! I will fight to the death to save them!" 

"Absolutely not." The Son of Kali's face could not have been more smug if he had put in ten times the effort. "They're in Orochi's service, now, and that's where they're going to stay." 

"NEVER!!" Clark rushed at the Kings. "Maybe if I put one of you out of commission now, I can undo your hold!" He had just enough time to finish the word "hold" before he found himself blasted back to the shrine's rim... 

...by a Moon Slasher. 

Clark blanched in horror as he saw what the Bloodriot had done to Leona. Blood flecked her lips, her posture was hunched, and her face was twisted into a monstrosity of rage. As he listened, her breathing sounded strangely metallic..._like she's become something other than human...one who can think only of destruction, like the Satsui..._

Iori, meanwhile, was not faring any better. His face, too, was contorted into unmitigated rage. What was particularly distressing was the pale violet smoke that occasionally seeped from his mouth. 

"I believe the phrase is, 'hot stuff, huh?'" The Son of Kali basked in the horror of the remaining warriors. "13:8 numerically, except the eight are infinitely stronger and more durable than the thirteen. Even better, the Shinji troika's _guaranteed_ to be set against itself. Anyone want to object before we start the killing?" 

Andy was especially horrified. "I've fought many horrors of mahou for the Shiranui," he whispered, "and I've almost never met anything so atrocious as this..." He turned and noticed that Mai and Siobhan were feeling similarly. He nodded to them. "As soon as Varrius gives us the go-ahead, I say we take the Sons." The two shinobi-ko nodded their silent assent. 

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Yashiro railed from the landing, finally recovered from the New Moon Thundercloud and his own horror at the fates of Iori and Leona. "The Bloodriot is an abomination of everything Orochi stands for! The Bloodfrenzy was supposed to be a gift for those who allied with Orochi, to give them the power to fight the corrupt­not be a means of slavery!" He was already charging down the stairs. "I won't let this atrocity go unpunished!" 

The earth tenma, though, had different ideas. It rotated its entire torso to face Yashiro, and fired crystals in succession. As they exploded, they blasted Yashiro up the stairs again, this time managing to knock him out. 

"We didn't need this," Garlon muttered. "_Now _how do we get out of here and stop the unsealing? Those tenma will never let anyone get up the stairs, let alone take your daisho out!" 

"I think he'll wake up quickly," Onyx responded. "Those explosions weren't particularly strong." He turned to Ralf, who had become deathly silent and pallid when he saw Leona fall to the Bloodriot. "Look, I'm sure we'll get out of here. When we do, I'm sure we'll get Miss Heidern out of her predicament." He looked at the bottom level. "At least, I hope we get out, before Orochi's raising is guaranteed." 

"That was _your_ last chance." Hunding stepped forward towards the Kings, holding the Sword of Lemminkaïnen forward and his wand behind. Like Chizuru's, his face was flushed with fury. "I will not stand by and let you twist the just to your own insanity." From the corner of his eye, he saw Chizuru ready to back him up. "The invoking of what Yashiro correctly called an 'atrocity' is one of the few things I shall _never_ forgive. Since you obviously won't release them on your own initiative, our only choice is to destroy you, and the Bloodriots with you. Only our deaths will stop us!" 

"All right, then." The Son of Kali dropped into his attack posture. "It's time you throwbacks got your long-scheduled living hell! _Prepare to die!!_" He did a beckoning gesture for the other seven. "**_In Orochi's sacred name!_**" 

_Here it comes..._"Everyone!" Varrius pointed at the Orochi warriors. "Get ready to cut them off from each other!" _Although, we're going to be so much weaker with Iori and Leona **there**, and not **here**..._

And, as one, the Heavenly Kings, the tenma, and the enslaved Iori and Leona rushed the Free-Willed warriors... 

End Chapter Three   
  



End file.
